


Phase Change

by Mack_the_Spoon



Series: Phases [2]
Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-02-26 12:37:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 88,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13235889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mack_the_Spoon/pseuds/Mack_the_Spoon
Summary: Following the big revelation of her status to her team - and the stress of knowing about her family's Rittenhouse ties, Lucy wants to be ready to move forward with those possibilities Wyatt mentioned. But those same family members have other ideas for her future.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is part two of a series. It begins immediately after part one, and will make a lot more sense if you read that first.

~~~~~~

Wyatt wasn't sure how much business the two of them had actually gotten through at the so-called work dinner where he'd heard from Lucy about what it meant to be Lycanth. But they had definitely made progress. Lucy seemed happier. He was under no delusion that they'd worked everything out so they could just go ahead with a relationship. On the other hand, they'd both admitted they had feelings for each other, and Lucy seemed less worried about what it might mean to try and see what happened.

Of course, that was just his thought process before the night was over. When they had finished eating, he'd offered to take her back to get her car at Mason Industries, which she'd accepted. And after they arrived, Lucy had taken his hand as they stood outside her car. “Wyatt,” she said, “thank you for tonight. It, uh, wasn't exactly what I was expecting, but I'm really glad we did it.”

“I am, too,” he told her. He'd wanted to ask her to come home with him – or to invite himself over to her place again. But he'd bit back those words. He had promised no pressure.

“I almost want to say the night shouldn't end here,” Lucy had said, as if she were reading his mind, with a little mischievous smile that made it difficult not to kiss her right then and there. “But I think it might be good to pause, just for a moment, before we... before that.” Her smile turned even more wicked as she went on, “Besides, I think you need to find someone to prescribe you a certain medication, first. I have a recommendation, if you're interested.”

Wyatt had almost choked. Clearing his throat, he'd accepted the offer of a recommendation, and then gone home, alone (still reluctant about that last part). Before even trying to go to bed, he'd left a message with the answering service of the doctor whose name Lucy had given him, asking for an appointment. It had taken a long while to fall asleep after that.

Of course, the next morning had brought with it a call from Agent Christopher, summoning them all to Mason Industries to chase Emma again. It turned out she was in Northern Ireland in 1980, a fact which turned Lucy pale as soon as she heard it. “That's right smack dab in the middle of the Troubles. What date, exactly?” she'd asked.

“May 1st,” Jiya said. “And the Mothership is outside Belfast.”

“Of course it is,” Lucy said.

“What Troubles?” Rufus wanted to know. “Are we talking Catholics versus Protestants, IRA versus British loyalists?”

Lucy nodded. “Which means we're about to go into a war zone. I don't remember if I know exactly what was going on May 1st, 1980, but I know it can't be good.”

Wyatt tried not to flash back to a certain other jump as he changed into his clothing for this particularly trip to the 80s. At least it was a different year and a different country, so the outfit was not the same as for his and Rufus' disastrous trip to save Jess. Still, it was reminiscent. And from what he knew about the Northern Irish conflicts, Lucy's assessment of the place being a war zone didn't sound wrong.

Jiya had found out that a major event in the history of the Troubles was supposed to go down the day after Emma had arrived. On a major street in downtown Belfast, some members of the British Special Forces (that wasn't what they were called, but that's what they were, Wyatt learned) were supposed to try to arrest a unit of IRA fighters. History said that the IRA unit would eventually surrender, but only after killing a British officer.

“We have no idea what Emma would want to influence,” Lucy was saying, as they got ready to go. “I don't know whether Rittenhouse would support the British loyalist side, or the IRA.”

“Probably whichever would cause more chaos,” said Rufus.

He had a point. Emma probably did have more of a plan than just chaos. But for the moment, not having anything else to go on, it was a good place to start.

Wyatt had been hoping that the fact that everyone spoke English in Northern Ireland might at least mean there was one part of this mission that was easier than, say, the French and Indian War. It hadn't occurred to him that even with a language in common, their accents (not to mention Rufus) would mark them just as obviously as foreigners. And neither side of the conflict was eager to trust them.

Lucy tried her best to provide them with the right kind of information, to keep the team from coming across as too suspicious. But it seemed harder than ever to walk the line between trying to blend in, and still getting the intel they needed to find Emma. Whether it was because the woman had gotten much better at hiding herself, or because people didn't trust them, the team had basically nothing on her five hours into the jump.

In a low voice, Wyatt spoke to Lucy as they left another pub where everyone had been giving them looks. “And you haven't, um, smelled – ?”

“No,” Lucy cut in quickly, glancing around. “Don't you think I would have mentioned it, if I had any actual clues to point out?”

“Yeah. Of course.” He sighed. “It was just the first I'd thought of it. That's all.”

Rufus raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, I will admit that would be handy.”

Lucy scoffed. “Believe me, I know. But there hasn't been any trace. It's weird. We're sure the Mothership actually landed here?”

“Yep,” said Rufus. "Unless Emma knows how to fake that, which would be even more terrifying than this whole thing already is, in general."

"Let's go with, we just haven't found her yet," Wyatt said.

When Lucy did eventually stop suddenly an hour later, her head up and her nostrils flaring slightly, she followed that by shaking her head. There were too many people around for Wyatt to ask what was happening, though. So he ushered them down a side street that was much emptier.

“Someone's been close, someone who's... like me and her, but it's not her.” Lucy ran a hand through her hair. “Probably just someone going about their business. It doesn't have to mean anything.”

“Okay. Well, we're going in circles, here,” Wyatt said. “This person's not familiar at all?”

“No.” Lucy sighed. “And I'm not going after her just because she's Lycanth. I mean, I think it's a her. It's a pretty weak scent.”

Wyatt was about to reply when the unmistakable sound of a shot echoed through the streets. It wasn't right next to them, but it was too close for comfort. He reached for his own weapon. “Isn't the confrontation, the shootout, supposed to start tomorrow?”

“How can Emma have already screwed things up if she hasn't even been here?” Rufus wondered.

“It's possible she was here,” Lucy said, looking grim. “There are ways to mask your scent.”

“Really?” Wyatt raised his eyebrows.

“It's not easy, but it's possible,” said Lucy.

Another shot brought Wyatt's attention back to the most urgent item of business. “We need to get some cover, and then figure out what's going on.” Thankfully, no one disagreed. Taking the lead, Wyatt moved the team further down the sidestreet, away from where the shot had come from.

Suddenly, one of the nondescript doors along the street opened right in front of them. A male voice hissed a sharp invitation – or almost a command – to come inside and take cover. “What are you idiots doing wandering around, anyhow?” Anyway, that seemed to be how Wyatt's brain parsed the exasperated-sounding question. It took more effort than he would have liked to understand it at all.

Rufus and Lucy looked back at him when he turned. “Who are you?” he asked quietly, edging closer to the door.

“Someone who understands how to keep out of trouble, which is apparently more than can be said of you three,” said the man inside the building. His accent was a little clearer now, or Wyatt was getting more used to it. This time, when another shot went off, it was echoed immediately by yet another. And they sounded closer.

“Fine. Let's go,” said Wyatt, and he led the way. It looked like the building they were entering was some kind of store room. And the man who had been talking to them didn't look threatening at all. He was about the same height as Wyatt, but very skinny and at least ten years older.

Just as Wyatt was about to ask for some clarification about why the man was inviting them in, he heard a yell.

“Wyatt!” It was Lucy. Where was she? “Wyatt! They're going to –” Then she was cut off.

“Lucy!” He was only a few steps inside the store room, but he ran back to the doorway, his heart pounding. He vaguely noticed Rufus next to him. All his attention was on the figure of someone, or more than one person at the end of the street, though they were disappearing from view even as he looked. One of the group had to have been Lucy. “We have to go. We have to get her back!”

“I know,” Rufus said. “But there are still people with guns out there. We need a plan.”

“Good luck with that,” said the man from before. His tone of voice sounded odd.

Wyatt turned. His heart rate sped up even more at what he saw: the dim light of the store room showed that their supposed rescuer was now holding a gun in one hand and what looked like some kind of remote in the other. “What the hell is this? Who are you?” Wyatt said, his own weapon raised.

The man used one thumb to press a button on the remote. The door they had been looking out of swung shut with a clang. He was smiling, and it wasn't a nice smile. “I told you before, I'm someone who understands how to keep out of trouble. And part of that is not messing about with friggin' werewolf bitches!”

Adjusting his grip on his gun, Wyatt swallowed back the rage that comment caused. “What are you talking about?” Okay, so judging by the tone of that question, maybe he wasn't as calm as he'd thought.

The man laughed. “She said you two might not admit it. Of course, who would? Anyway. The point is, I'll be keeping you here for now, so you don't get any ideas about rescuing that bitch friend of yours.”

“Oh, yeah?” said Wyatt, aiming squarely at the man's head. “You want to bet on that?”

“Aye, I do,” the man said, and fired.

Wyatt immediately fired off a round of his own, even before he felt the impact. Unfortunately, his shot went wide, and it didn't take long to realize why: he was hit. His opponent's bullet had hit him in the front of his right shoulder. Right now, it just burned, but as he stumbled back into Rufus, his grip on his gun weakening, he knew from experience that would get a whole lot worse.

And yet, as he felt Rufus grab him by his uninjured side, trying to support him, the pain didn't actually increase much. This didn't make sense. Wyatt fought to regain his footing. “Where did he go?”

“Wyatt, what the hell? Don't worry about him – you just got shot!” Rufus still hadn't let go of his arm.

“I don't think I did,” Wyatt said, wincing and looking down at himself. “I'm not even bleeding.” Pulling his left arm out of his friend's grasp, he used that hand to touch where the bullet had hit. “There's no wound. I mean, there's going to be a pretty nasty bruise, I'm guessing. But it wasn't a live round. It's got to have been rubber. Or maybe plastic, if it didn't ricochet.”

Rufus didn't say anything right away, but then he sighed. “Okay. Well, I'm glad you're not bleeding. But the bad news is, I think we're trapped in here.”

Painfully, and with a lot less dexterity than he'd normally have, Wyatt reholstered his gun. A few minutes' searching proved Rufus right. Apart from a few empty shelves, it was just them in the room. And both the door that led to the street and the one other exit were locked. The locks weren't even clearly visible, so they could try to force them, either.

“How did this even happen?” Rufus said, when they'd finished their grim tour of their prison. “This had to have been planned. Was it Emma, somehow? That guy said 'she' told him about us.”

Wyatt didn't answer. It wasn't that he disagreed with Rufus; in fact, he'd been having similar thoughts. But they kept getting pushed out of the front of his mind by thoughts of Lucy. He'd let her down again. He'd let her be taken. This couldn't be happening again. How could he have failed her like this? It had all happened so fast.

“Wyatt.” Rufus stepped close to him. “Dude. You know if it was Emma – which we have to assume it was, right? If it was her, they're not going to hurt Lucy. She's too important to them.”

He gave a nod. What he didn't say was that he was pretty sure Emma and whatever other Rittenhouse crazies had Lucy could do a lot of bad things to her without technically hurting her. “Yeah. Let's just focus on getting out of here.”

“And then we can get back to the Lifeboat, so at least we'll know if Emma's gone anywhere else.”

Jaw clenched, Wyatt nodded again. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was going to end up so much worse than when Flynn had Lucy. And it wasn't just because he and Lucy had admitted their feelings to each other, although that was definitely hurting worse than the bruise forming on his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did my best not to butcher any Northern Irish accent that shows up here, but I'm happy to receive constructive criticism about that or any details that seem wrong.
> 
> Interesting fact, though: rubber/plastic, non-lethal rounds were apparently invented in the UK/Northern Ireland during and because of the Troubles.


	2. Chapter 2

~~~~~~

Lucy guessed she was kind of glad her abductors had drugged her just a few minutes after they dragged her away from Wyatt and Rufus. That meant she hadn't been awake to be terrified while they brought her... wherever this was. Not that that fact was actually all that comforting.

She had awoken in a tiny room (cell, her mind filled in, though she didn't want to consider that). Her shoes and jacket were missing, though thankfully it didn't seem like anything else was. The concrete floor was chilly, though, she discovered quickly. And since there was no sign of any way for her to escape, she sat back down on the thin mattress just a few minutes after she'd first stood up. There was, however, what looked like a video camera in one corner of the room.

Lucy stared at it, her arms crossed. The only thing she knew about her the people who had taken her was that they weren't Lycanth. At such close range, she would have been able to tell for sure – no masking would have worked. She didn't detect any Lycanth here now, either. That suggested this wasn't Rittenhouse.

But then, why had they taken her? There wasn't any good answer to that question. She'd have to figure out what side they were on, and then how to convince them she wasn't an agent of the other side. She remembered reading about a historian, a writer who had wanted to interview various parties involved in the Troubles, who had eventually lied that he was Jewish just so he wouldn't have to be on one side or the other. She huffed to herself. It seemed like as good of a strategy as any.

The door opened then. Lucy quickly got off the mattress and stood up, trying to ready herself. The man who came in was carrying what looked like some kind of rifle, which made it hard for Lucy to focus on anything else. But she did notice his eyes. While his hair was dirty blond, his eyes were a piercing blue that reminded her distractingly of Wyatt's.

“Ah, you're awake,” said the man. “Good. Then we can get started.” He didn't have the same accent as the people they had been interacting with today. She thought it was definitely English as opposed to Irish, although she wasn't an expert on accents. It wasn't how Ian Fleming had spoken, either.

“Started with what? Why did you kidnap me?” she said. Her voice didn't shake, although she felt like it could start any time.

The man smiled, his eyes narrowing. “Well, you see, I've always been interested in Lycanth.” When she didn't immediately react, he just nodded. “I've always wanted to know more about how a human being could transform into an animal. I'm no scientist, but I've studied some anatomy and biology. I know that kind of change should be impossible.”

Lucy swallowed. “I still don't see what that has to do with me.”

“Oh, you don't?” He raised his eyebrows. “Anyway, I've never had the chance to actually study any Lycanth. You lot don't seem interested in making yourself available. So imagine my surprise when some ginger-haired, American woman shows up out of nowhere yesterday and tells me she knows where I'll be able to find a Lycanth. And all she wants in return is my promise that I won't kill you.”

It was suddenly hard to breathe, but Lucy tried to keep from panicking. “Wait, she told you I'm... I'm a Lycanth? That's crazy. I don't know why anyone would say that.”

He waited for her to stop talking, then ran the hand not currently holding the gun over his chin thoughtfully. “I guess we'll see. It's not the full moon anytime soon, and I know there's a shot for that now, anyway. But I think my first test should do two things at once: make you choose to transform, for your own good, and also let me learn a little something about Lycanth, while we're at it.”

“What are you talking about?” Lucy said. She was wearing her Morfex patch, but this man was right that there was only a shot, at this point in history. So he wouldn't have any reason to expect that she would find it easy to resist any urge to transform. Still, why would he be so confident that she would give herself away by changing now?

“Let's just say, this room of yours used to have another purpose,” the man told her, smiling again. “And I think any creature who has to stay here might want a nice, thick, fur coat.” Then he turned and left, locking the door behind him.

Lucy looked around the room again. The walls of the room were bare concrete, as far as she could tell. The only window was on the door (which, again, was fact she didn't want to think about too hard if she was supposed to be avoiding panic). The floor was concrete, too. But it was springtime – or at least, it had been when Lucy had been knocked unconscious. Why would she have to worry about cold?

However he managed it, though, she didn't have to wait long to see what her captor meant. Very soon, she was curled up with her knees to her chest, wishing the mattress had a blanket. If it kept getting colder in there, she was, in fact, going to have to rely on her wolf form's fur to keep her from freezing to death. At some point, even not wanting to confirm the suspicions of this very untrustworthy man would take a back seat to her own self-preservation.

The main problem with that, Lucy thought, her teeth starting to chatter, was that she would normally choose to take off her clothes before transforming. That way, she had the option of putting them back on when she changed back. Now, of course, that would mean seconds of being even colder before the change. Which was not at all an inviting prospect.

Still. She was going to have to go for it, and go for it soon. Better to do it while she still had any fine motor skills left. The first step was to remove her Morfex patch as surreptitiously as she could, facing away from the camera and working her arm free of the sleeve. Once it was removed (which was harder than normal, with her limbs and fingers as cold as they were), she stuck it carefully to the inside of the shirt. Morfex patches were transparent. Hopefully, even if her captor happened to look at the shirt, he wouldn't see anything.

Then, taking a deep breath (slowly, so as not to start coughing with the cold), Lucy took her other arm out of the sleeve. Still facing away from the camera, she then proceeded to take the rest of her clothing off. It wasn't graceful, but this wasn't supposed to be a show. As soon as she could, she transformed.

The relief was immediate. Her fur was enough to make this temperature bearable. Shaking herself, she picked up her clothes and put them in a pile. Then she turned to face the camera and then sat down. If the man who had spoken to her earlier had mostly just intended to get her to transform, she expected he would come back soon. And quite apart from not freezing anymore, the other benefit to being in her wolf form was that she was naturally more confident. It was just harder to be scared when she was a large predator.

That didn't mean she wasn't very wary when the door opened and the same man came back, holding that rifle again. (He was also wearing a thick coat and a knitted cap this time.) “Well, well, you make quite the beautiful wolf,” he said. “Very impressive.”

She wanted to attack him, to get the hell out of here. But she knew that would probably just get her shot. Still, she shifted positions to be more ready to stand. She also growled in response to his statement, though that was almost involuntary.

He laughed. “Impressive, like I said. We'll have to see just how much.” He turned to the open door. “Bring it in.”

There were footsteps, and then another guy came in. Lucy sat up, growling again, because this man had a large, metal collar on a chain. That would have been unacceptable enough, but the collar also looked to have prongs pointing inward. It was the kind of thing Lucy would have been horrified to see used on any animal. The idea of it being put on her was much, much worse. She could not let that happen.

She was on her feet a moment after this new threat entered the room. Obviously, she didn't want to get shot, but the first man had told her Emma didn't want her killed. Maybe it was worth the risk. She'd have to start by taking out the first guy. Still growling, she eyed him.

He hadn't even raised the weapon. “You'd better make her compliant, first,” was all he said.

The other man nodded. “Can do.” With one hand, he reached into his coat pocket and took out another gun, a smaller one that Lucy didn't recognize right away.

Now what was she supposed to do? She snarled. This was getting more alarming every second. But the second guy was aiming for her, so she made the snap decision and leaped toward him, aiming for his hand.

Several things happened simultaneously. The man aiming at her shouted, and Lucy struck at his hand – but it wasn't with nearly as much force as she'd intended. That was because he'd fired at the same moment. It wasn't a bullet. Instead, it had to be a Taser with a very high output.

Lucy fell to the ground with a yelp. For an amount of time that felt endless, she couldn't do anything except endure the pain of the electric shock. And when the pain stopped and her vision finally cleared, she still couldn't move, even though she could see the collar moving closer to her. They were going to do it. They were going to do it, and she couldn't stop them. All she could manage was to lift her lips in a weak snarl.

When she felt the cold metal around her neck, she redoubled her efforts to move – to jerk her head away, at least. But nothing happened. And then she heard and felt it being clasped shut. That was it. It was done.

“Good,” said the first man, who was obviously the boss. “Can she stand?”

“I can find out,” said the other guy.

Lucy was barely starting to feel like she had any control over her body. So she had no chance of being ready for the sharp, agonizing jolt on the collar as the man stood up and yanked on the chain. The only small mercy was that the chain went slack again almost immediately. With a whine, she struggled to her feet, since that was clearly what they wanted her to do.

“Very good,” the boss said approvingly. “Now, let's go.”

Lucy didn't think she was bleeding where the collar had cut into her, but it still stung. She also doubted that wherever they wanted to take her was going to be better than this place. Or maybe it wouldn't be small and windowless, which would be better in at least that way. Whatever was coming, though, the best thing she could do for the moment was try to pay attention, to try to gain more of an understanding of her situation. That's what Wyatt would tell her to do.

The three of them made their way down a hall. Lucy was mostly recovered from the Taser by this point, if not the pain in her neck, so she stuck close to the man holding the leash (as much as that continued to gall her). She noticed that he was wearing thick gloves, which explained why he hadn't been affected much by her attack on him. She also noticed by scent that only a few people had been in this corridor recently. There was no trace of Emma or anyone else she recognized.

After a few minutes, however, she started to both smell and hear what seemed to be a large number of people. In fact, from what she could tell, they were getting close to a large area filled with people. It reminded her of some kind of assembly, or maybe a sporting event. But why would they want her at that kind of gathering?

Just as they were approaching the doors that had to lead into whatever this was, Lucy caught another scent. This one made her hackles rise. She stopped, and started to growl again.

“Oy!” The man with the chain was glaring down at her. “What are you doing now, you stupid bitch?”

“Not so stupid, Cooper,” said the boss. “I reckon she just started to be able to smell our other guests.” He stepped closer to Lucy until he was in front of her. “You know what'll happen if you don't come with us. Don't make things worse for yourself.”

“Yeah,” Cooper added, holding up his end of the chain threateningly.

Lucy looked from one of them to the other. This place they were taking her had not one, but two full-grown male wolves inside. Actual wolves. And these men wanted her to go in there. She had a sinking feeling she could guess what they wanted her for.

“Let's go,” said the boss.

Lucy didn't let Cooper yank on the chain, but followed him extremely reluctantly as the two men started moving again. This was very, very bad. Lycanth in wolf form were bigger than wolves, but that didn't mean she felt confident about her chances fighting two of them. Because why else would all three of them be here, in a room with spectators?

Inside, her fears looked to be confirmed: the room seemed to be an old gym, with bleachers on either side. The seats were filled with people. On either side of the middle space, there was a post stuck into the ground. One of the posts had two angry, scared wolves chained to it. There was another man with a weapon of some kind behind them as they paced anxiously. And the post on the other side had a length of chain attached to it, but no creature waiting. Just to reinforce the image, the entire center was gated off with chain link fencing.

Lucy heard herself whine, although she doubted if anyone else heard it over the noise of the crowd. She desperately wished she could see any way out of this. But things did not look promising.

“Your attention, please, ladies and gentlemen,” the boss said, at that moment. He had walked out into the center of the floor (there was a gate currently open), and was holding out his hands. It took a minute or so, but the crowd did quiet. “Right. We have a special treat tonight: it's a real wolf-on-wolf battle. On one side, we have a couple of actual wolves we captured a while back. But on this side over here, we have this creature who can't decide whether she's human or wolf.” He pointed to where Cooper had taken Lucy to be chained to the other post.

The spectators booed. Lucy glanced to both sides of the gym, her ears back. True, her vision in wolf form didn't focus on the details of faces in the same way that it would in human form, but she couldn't see a single person who looked sympathetic to her plight. Not that she really expected that, from people who were here, and who had probably paid to watch this. She still didn't know exactly how to read the guy in charge, but the crowd was probably made up of people who hated Lycanth.

The pair of wolves, on the other hand, looked like they felt just as terrified as her. The boss, Cooper, and the other man who had been near the wolves left the arena. The gate was locked. Just as she was wondering exactly how this was actually going to be a fight, when both she and they would prefer to avoid each other, she suddenly smelled fresh meat. Personally, she was too scared to be hungry, and it hadn't been that long since her last meal.

But then she turned and saw that someone was holding it up behind her side of the arena. The wolves on the other side had obviously noticed it, too – and more to the point, they were obviously hungry. The likelihood that they would think she was guarding it was pretty high. And though one of them on his own wouldn't have necessarily felt up to taking her on, she could tell they were from the same pack and would be used to fighting together against a common opponent.

Still. Panicking wasn't helpful. She turned just enough to be able to keep watching as the guy who had been next to the wolves set down a huge slab of beef behind her, while still eyeing the wolves as they watched, too. Then, once the man backed away, she made sure she was facing the challenge head-on. 

At least she didn't have to be in suspense for long. The pair of them advanced, stiff-legged and growling. Lucy snarled in response. But she stayed put – she had already decided she would let them take the risk of attacking first.

The one on the left – the slightly larger male – sprang first. Lucy saw the jump coming and deflected easily enough with a swipe of her front paw. But even as he yelped and fell, his companion was leaping into the fray. Lucy did her best to meet that attack, as well. She wasn't quite in time. It was her own cry of pain that she heard as the other wolf's teeth scored along her shoulder.

She retreated a few steps, doing her best to ignore the pain for the time being. She had to stay alert, and not let this go downhill. With another growl, she struck at the one who had injured her. He tried to dodge, but she was satisfied to see that she had gotten him just about as badly as he had gotten her. Her satisfaction didn't last long, however.

The other wolf, who had gotten to his feet, chose that moment to lunge at her. He couldn't knock her over, and he didn't hit anything critical. He did draw a lot of blood on one side of her face, though. And it hurt.

Lucy shook her head. She was going to have to rely on her most basic Lycanth instincts here. The part of her that remembered that the boss was supposed to keep her alive needed to stop thinking. She had no idea if he genuinely cared enough to worry about her life. She had to focus. Thinking like a human wasn't helpful here.

So she purposefully turned her thoughts toward the unfiltered, righteous anger that her wolf form felt at being attacked like this. She allowed that, and all the instincts that went with it, to guide her. It wasn't exactly like giving up control of herself – her wolf form was still _her_ – but it was a drastic change of mindset. And it was one that she didn't make very often.

It served her well, though. The next few minutes were all about her attacks and successful blocks against the two wolves. They were intimidated, and Lucy was grimly pleased. She even drove them back toward their end of the enclosure. They were both still on their feet, but they were panting and exhausted, and bleeding. She might win this.

Her forward progress was halted suddenly, then, by something pulling painfully around her neck. Of course – the hated collar. It seemed like the wolves in front of her weren't as restricted by their collars as she was. It seemed like they were allowed to advance further into her territory than she was allowed into theirs. That wasn't fair.

Growling, she took one step back, relaxing the tension. The first wolf, the one who'd attacked first, evidently saw this as a sign of weakness. He jumped, snapping at her neck from one side. Lucy couldn't move forward to meet him, so she dodged backward.

His teeth closed on the collar and slipped off. Lucy shook her head. That had been much too close. But because of the collar, she was forced to wait until the next approach. There was no denying it threw her off her game. And her enemies didn't fail to take advantage.

~~~~~~

The woman tried to maintain patience as she spoke to the man. What she wanted to do, now that she knew her plan hadn't gone as she'd expected, was to go in and get Lucy out of there immediately – and preferably punish everyone involved in this disgusting operation. Starting with this man, of course. His blithe disregard for the health of his newest prisoner (he called her a 'creature', which, while not surprising, was infuriating) reaffirmed Emma's report that he had not, in fact, understood the terms of their arrangement. “But she is still alive?” she asked, pretending only annoyance, when what she wanted was to kill him and make sure for herself.

“Oh yes,” said the man. “I had my associate bandage her up. Lycanth are supposed to heal quickly, right?”

“I'd like to see her now,” was what she decided to say in response. If this man, this bigoted cretin had overstepped his bounds as badly as Emma feared, she needed to see Lucy as soon as possible.

The man raised his eyebrows. “I was told I'd have her for as long as I wanted.”

“You'll be compensated for whatever loss you might incur,” she said. “Or I could just go to the police. I doubt you have any kind of license for the money that changes hands here.”

Now his expression turned thunderous. “Now, just one bleeding minute!”

She didn't even have to turn to know that Roger had drawn his gun beside her. “Mr. Smith, let's not make this unpleasant.”

Mr. Smith swallowed. Then he nodded. “You're right. I'll show you to her room.”

Despite everything, her composure almost broke at the sight of Lucy, lying unmoving on the mattress inside the tiny room where Smith brought them. She was bandaged in multiple places, and she didn't so much as twitch her one uninjured ear when the door opened. But she kept calm and made herself do nothing except clench her jaw and her fists, breathing steadily. “You can go,” she said to Smith. “We'll take her from here.”

Smith didn't move. “And my money?”

“You'll get what you're owed,” she told him, meeting his eyes until he grew uncomfortable and looked away.

“Fine,” he said, though it was obvious he still didn't want to leave – and probably still didn't want to lose custody of his prized 'creature', either.

As soon as he was gone, she stepped forward and knelt beside Lucy's bed. “Oh, sweetheart. I wish it hadn't come to this.” Carefully, she felt for her daughter's pulse – clenching her jaw again as she had to reach around that truly cruel collar to do so. It was slow, but steady. On the other hand... She frowned. “She's warm. Too warm.”

“Can she be moved?” Roger asked.

“I think so,” Carol told him, “though this front leg doesn't look good.” She ran one finger lightly over the bandage in question, and winced when Lucy flinched. “Shhh, Lucy, you're going to be all right.” Her breathing sped up, and Carol watched her eyes move underneath the lids. But that was all that happened.

“I'll find someone to get us a stretcher, or something we can use as one,” said Roger.

She nodded. One thing that could be said about Roger – he wasn't going to let his most recent interaction with Lucy get in the way of doing what needed to be done here and now. That was part of what made him a lieutenant worth keeping, in spite of the unauthorized actions he sometimes took it upon himself to make on her behalf.

Emma was with him when he returned, carrying a large blanket. “This is all we found. But it should work.”

It wasn't ideal, but she didn't want to waste time. “Let's go.”

Between the three of them, they moved Lucy to the blanket with a minimum of fuss. She did almost regain consciousness when they lifted her from her bed. She whined, and acted like she was trying to move. “Shhh,” Carol repeated, stroking the part of her head that had no bandages or cuts. “It's going to be all right, sweetheart. Just relax.” She was gratified when the tension in her cub's body lessened. Some part of her was listening.

~~~~~~

Lucy didn't want to be waking up. But she was hearing voices, and noticing scents, that were too important to ignore. They were familiar. They should have been comforting. And yet something about all this was troubling.

Then the voice that was the most familiar spoke, clearly directed at her. “Lucy, honey, you don't need to wake up if you don't want to. I'm sure you're in pain. I promise we're getting you somewhere safe, where we can help you feel better.”

Her mom. That was her mom. Lucy struggled to open her eyes. Why was her mom here? Then, through the haze that seemed to be covering everything even with her eyes open, she spotted Emma. She tried to growl, though it didn't seem like it worked very well.

Her mom must have seen where she was looking. “It's all right, Lucy. No one here will hurt you.”

But hadn't Emma sold her out to the people who put her in a dog fight? Lucy brought her gaze back to her mother. They were in a car, or maybe a van, she noticed vaguely. Weren't they still in the past? Why was everyone here? Lucy swallowed. This was all too much.

“Don't worry,” said her mother softly. “You'll be safe now.”

She didn't trust her mother, though. Lucy knew that. She wasn't even part of the pack anymore – she hadn't been for years. But she was so tired, and in pain like her mother had said. And at least now she wasn't in that horrible cell anymore. Her eyes closed.

“That's right, sweetheart,” her mother's voice said. “Just rest.”

Lucy could feel herself slipping back under. It wasn't a comforting feeling, though. It was more like there was a heavy blanket being pulled over her, that she was too weak to escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did actually read a book where the historian interviewing people about the Troubles lied about being Jewish so that he didn't have to say whether he was Catholic or Protestant.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there are some vague S2 spoilers and speculation here.

~~~~~~

It had ended up taking so long to get out of that room that Wyatt didn't think he'd ever be able to erase all the terrifying images that kept coming into his brain of what those people might be doing to Lucy in the meantime. And after that, it took so long to actually get to where the Mothership had gone that he caught himself wondering what the point of having a time machine was. But they were here, now (then?), where and when Lucy was. Or, he reminded himself, where and when the Mothership was, which was in all likelihood where Lucy had been taken. And as best as they could figure, Emma must have chosen this destination just for holding Lucy. They hadn't been able to figure out any major historical event happening in Carlisle, England on or around this date. It was within months of the Northern Ireland jump.

At least people stared at them slightly less than in Belfast. Wyatt appreciated that, even though the accents were a whole new kind of hard to interpret. He spared a moment to wish they were trying to find Lucy in a BBC studio, or somewhere people would be speaking in the kind of English accent he was most familiar with (Lucy would probably know what that accent was called).

Rufus broke their tense silence in the first hour, after they'd already asked at several pubs and streetcorners for any sign of Emma – with no results. “Why do you think Rittenhouse took her?”

Wyatt gave his friend a look. “How am I supposed to know?”

“I know,” Rufus said quickly. “I'm just worried, and not talking about it isn't helping. I mean, first a guy from Lucy's old pack tries to attack you two, and then this?”

“Yeah,” Wyatt said. He sighed. He didn't think talking about this would help, either, but he also knew enough to know that giving in to Rufus, at least briefly, would probably be easier in the long run. “I'm sure they're mad at her for – for siding against them.” He resisted the urge to put a hand to injury on his right shoulder. It was as fine as it was going to be – meaning it was deeply bruised, and the doctor at Mason had recommended rest which he wasn't going to be getting anytime soon.

“I can't believe Lucy's mom would have thought she'd make any other choice,” was Rufus' response. “She has to know Lucy better than that.”

“You'd think,” Wyatt agreed. “But according to Lucy, she's also pretty convinced she's always right. So she isn't going to give up on her plans for her daughter that easily.” There was another restaurant of some kind up ahead, he saw. So at least this conversation would go on hold for that. “I know the type: she's definitely smart – look at her daughter – and she's always had power, so she's used to everything going her way. She assumes every obstacle is going to fall in front of her, even when that obstacle is her own flesh and blood.”

Rufus raised his eyebrows. “That's messed up. Makes me wonder...” He trailed off.

Despite the fact that they had almost reached the restaurant, Wyatt was curious now. “Makes you wonder what?”

He looked a little embarrassed, but then shrugged. “I was going to say, it makes me wonder how Lucy got to be such a nice person. If her mom's like that, and we already knew what her dad's like. By which I mean, terrifying.”

Wyatt smiled slightly, then shook his head. “Hard to say.” For himself, he'd always made it a goal to become as different from his father as he could. And of course his grandpa had helped a lot. “Anyway. Let's go in here and ask them about Emma.”

To their surprise and relief, the hostess inside the restaurant recognized Emma's picture. “Yeah, she came in yesterday. I think she ordered a sandwich, takeaway. She didn't seem to want to chat, either. All I did was ask if she was here on holiday.” The woman gave each of them a questioning look as she spoke.

“Ah,” said Wyatt. “Well, that's not too surprising, since she's probably trying to lie low. This woman is a con artist. We've been tracking her for months now, but she always slips away.”

“Oh!” The woman's eyes widened. “Should I call the cops?”

“Nah, we don't want to do anything to spook her,” Wyatt said. “We're private investigators, ourselves.” He showed her the badge Mason Industries had made for him, while Rufus displayed his, as well.

“From the States?”

Wyatt nodded. “We were hired by some of this woman's previous victims.”

“Wow,” she said. “Well, I haven't seen her today, I'm afraid.”

“Any idea where she went after she picked up her food yesterday?” Rufus asked.

“No, sorry,” she told them.

“That's all right,” said Wyatt, giving her a smile. “If you do see her again, like I said, we're trying not to spook her. But please give me a call.” He handed her the business card that would reach his very much not-1980s-appropriate cell phone.

“I will,” the woman said, smiling back at him.

“Thank you,” he told her.

The smile left his face as soon as they headed out the door. “Okay. If Emma was getting takeout from this restaurant, we have to be close.”

“Yeah, but how close? It's almost like we're still nowhere,” Rufus said. “We already knew they had to be somewhere in this area.”

“Let's see what else we can find,” Wyatt decided to say. He didn't want to dignify Rufus' pessimism with a response, even though he wasn't wrong, exactly. He needed this to be real progress. They would find someone else who had seen Emma – or some stranger that he and Rufus would be able to tell was Rittenhouse. And of course Wyatt knew Rufus agreed that they were just going to keep searching until they found Lucy.

~~~~~~

Lucy knew enough to know that she wasn't following everything that was happening. She knew she was somewhere with her pack – her old pack, several members. And Emma, sometimes. But most of the time, she could barely even tell when they were talking to her. She was... she must be sick. That was the only thing that made sense.

After a while – Lucy had no idea how long – she started to feel a very little bit better. With that slight improvement, she also started to feel a little more aware. For example, she could now tell that she was lying on a relatively nice bed. And there was... there was an IV in her right foreleg. She didn't think she was particularly hungry or thirsty, either. Plus, probably because of the IV, she wasn't feeling much pain. So she was definitely doing better than she had been, back at that other place.

On the other hand, she didn't want to be here. She wanted to be with... with her real pack. For some reason, she was having trouble remembering them. But she knew these people here weren't them. She was supposed to be somewhere else.

“Lucy? Are you awake?” That was her mother again, coming into the room.

Lucy turned her head so she could look at her.

Her mother smiled. “Good. You're looking a little better, sweetheart. Noah said he thinks you might turn the corner in the next twenty-four hours.”

Lucy blinked. Noah? She had no memory of seeing him anytime recently. At that moment, she could barely recall what he looked like.

“He also wanted me to tell you that, once we're sure the infection is on its way out, you can feel free to transform, if you want,” her mother went on. “In the meantime, it's probably better to keep your wolf form.”

Faster healing, Lucy thought. That made sense. But she was still having trouble with why this had anything to do with Noah. And yet she also knew that she should know.

She must have made an involuntary distressed sound, because her mother came closer, looking sympathetic. “What's wrong, Lucy?” She reached out a hand and stroked her, carefully avoiding the bandages that Lucy knew were there.

Lucy closed her eyes. She didn't want that to be comforting at all. It was, though. She couldn't help relaxing. It was easy to fall back into her long-ingrained habit of trusting this woman, of feeling safe and loved with her. Certainly easier than focusing on why she shouldn't and couldn't trust her.

The next time she opened her eyes, she realized two things: it was night time, and her mother was still there. In fact, she was... She must have transformed, and she was on the bed, right next to her daughter. Lucy could hear her slow, even breaths and feel the warmth of her. She had neither the energy nor willpower to move away. She had missed this.

Yet, as she slipped back into to sleep, the comfort that presence brought faded. Her mom was... _Rittenhouse_. Yes. Somehow, Lucy had forgotten about that. She struggled to wake up, and was only partially successful. Rittenhouse. This whole pack was a part of that despicable group. Emma was, too, and most likely Noah as well.

That meant that, while she wasn't currently being exploited by a Lycanth-obsessed man who wanted her to fight wild animals, she also wasn't safe. But she was still sick. She wasn't sure exactly how sick at the moment. Her mom had said she was getting better. When she was better, then, Lucy told herself, she would figure out how to get out of here. Her real pack – Wyatt and Rufus, how could she have forgotten? Her real pack was already looking for her. She knew it.

That thought brought genuine comfort. It was enough, even though she was too tired to do anything about it. She slept, and in her dreams, she remembered feeling truly safe and cared for. And she knew who had given her that feeling.

~~~~~~

The next morning, Lucy decided it was time to make her move. Her mother hadn't been there with her when she woke up, though she could tell she'd spent most of the night. But either way, Lucy wasn't waiting around. She wanted to transform, so she could get out of that room. Of course, the IV was an obstacle there. If she transformed with it still in, the area where it was currently risked tearing. Yet taking it out while in wolf form wouldn't lend itself to much dexterity, either.

Experimentally, Lucy brought her right paw closer to herself and looked at the needle site. Despite her resolve, though, she just couldn't imagine pulling it out with her teeth. She let out a disappointed sigh. Making herself bleed didn't seem like a good way to start out her planned escape.

She didn't have too much time to stew over her limited options, however. A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door, and then it opened. It was her mom, with Noah right next to her. She sat up warily.

“Lucy,” her mom said, smiling. “You're awake. You look like you're feeling much better.”

Lucy nodded, then pointed at the IV with her nose (feeling a sense of deja vu as she did so).

Noah smiled. “Of course I can take that out for you. Would that be all right?”

She nodded again, though she hoped it would be over quickly. Not only was she a wimp about this kind of thing in general, but she didn't actually want Noah touching her for very long. Still, she kept silent and didn't move while he put on gloves and then took out the IV.

He wiped the area with rubbing alcohol, then asked, “Now, I could bandage this, but I could also wait until you've transformed. Would you like to do that?”

Lucy nodded again.

“Great.” He took a step back.

Lucy looked at her mom. The other two might think she ought to be comfortable being naked in front of Noah, but Lucy was most definitely not going to change with Noah there – and especially not with no clothing that she could see.

“Oh,” her mom said, after a pause. “Of course. We found your outfit back at that place. It's right over here.” She went over to a small dresser Lucy hadn't noticed before. After a moment of rustling, she pulled out the blouse and skirt Lucy had been wearing and brought them over to set on the bed next to her daughter. The undergarments were in there, too, Lucy saw.

But she still wasn't going to change. Instead, she kept staring at her mom. She might not specifically know Lucy's reasons. Still, they should both be able to figure this out.

Finally, Noah scoffed. “Ah.” He looked like he was going to say something else, but then he nodded. “I'll just...” With another audible exhale, he left, shutting the door behind him.

“Was that really necessary, Lucy?” Her mother asked, raising her eyebrows. “He's your fiance.”

Lucy transformed and started to get dressed. “No, he's not,” she said. “I broke it off.” She pulled the blouse on and buttoned it. “Because I don't actually know him at all, and I never have.” She tried to finger-comb her hair, and winced when her hand hit the injury on her left ear. She had almost forgotten that she was hurt. When she thought about it, though, even standing to get dressed seemed to be taking more effort than she would have hoped.

Her mom's expression shifted several times, too quickly for Lucy to follow. “I see.” After a pause to let Lucy finish, she took a step toward her and smiled. “Well. How are you doing?”

Lucy sat back down on the bed. This was still bizarre. They were both acting like Lucy had been sick, or something, but otherwise everything was fine – no, that everything was back to the way it had been years ago, before Lucy had left the pack. “I've been better,” she said, “but nothing hurts too much. And my head's a lot clearer.”

“Good,” said her mom.

“Really?” Lucy said, crossing her arms. “I kind of got the feeling you liked it better when I wasn't thinking clearly. At least then I couldn't object to being forcibly reintegrated into the pack.”

“That's not fair,” her mom said sharply. “Should we have just left you there? That man was going to let you die.”

“Was it him letting me die, or you?” Lucy said, blinking back sudden tears. “I know it was Emma who sold me to that place. He told me it was.”

Her mother took a deep breath. “Fine. I'd hoped we could wait to do this until you were completely better. Yes, Emma did hand you over to that man.”

Lucy's gasp was involuntary. She'd already known this, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt to hear her own mother admit it. It also brought a surge of anger, which she did not attempt to quell. “Why? Not that I can't guess, but I need to hear you say it.” Her voice only shook a little.

“Of course you're angry,” said her mom. “And I am truly sorry for your pain. It wasn't ever supposed to go that far.”

“That's not an answer,” Lucy snapped, some tears making their way down her cheeks. She wiped them away.

“Lucy, you can't expect to reject your pack, your family, for so many years, and compound it by running off with a non-Lycanth, without consequences,” said her mom.

For a moment, Lucy regretted having already transformed. Her fury at her mother's words was almost enough to make her revert back to wolf form, anyway. “Who's _running_ anywhere?” she said, through clenched teeth. “And since when do you get to come back and have any say in my life?”

Her mom sighed. “I knew I was too soft with you, Lucy. I obviously didn't make it clear enough, while I was encouraging you to grow up knowing your own mind, that you still have obligations because of your position and bloodline.”

“Obviously not,” Lucy said, still fighting the urge to growl or snarl. “So you decided to make up for it now by seeing how much punishment I could take before I died!” Tears were still falling from her eyes, but she didn't care. “In what universe is that supposed to make me interested in any _obligations_ you say I have?”

Her mother's lips thinned. Then she closed her eyes for a moment before speaking. “I'm not going to argue with you, sweetheart. Like I said, you were never supposed to be in any real danger, or even seriously injured.” Then she straightened. “But you do need to understand. Here. Maybe this will help.” From the inside of the jacket she was wearing, she pulled out a small book. Lucy felt a jolt – its resemblance to the journal she'd gotten from her mom just a short time ago was briefly startling. But this one was smaller, for one thing.

“A book?” Lucy said, clearing her throat. She was still angrier than she could ever remember being before, but she was also curious. This seemed important.

Her mom ignored the question. “I've only had this particular journal for ten years or so. But it's not my first.” She cracked it open and flipped almost to the back, to the latest page. She held it out for Lucy to see.

Lucy frowned as she looked. “What is this – some kind of shorthand?” She'd considered learning shorthand at one point in grad school, just for faster note-taking, but since it also would have been an extra thing to study, she'd never gotten around to it. The only thing she could tell by a quick examination of the page was that it looked like the book might contain some kind of itemized list.

“Something like that,” said her mom. “I've had to be careful, keeping information like this written down. It's a list of Rittenhouse operatives – and their locations in time and space. I make a note whenever I interact with them, or when someone under me reports an interaction.”

Suddenly, Lucy felt choked again, but this time it was fear and disbelief instead of anger that seemed to have lodged themselves in her throat. She shook her head. Finally, she managed to say, “No. You're lying.” Rittenhouse couldn't have agents embedded in history. Not like this. Not enough to fill several books. It couldn't be.

“I'm not,” her mother said calmly. “Look. This most recent name? It's written as 'Peter Grady', but you might remember him with a different name, as the leader of Sinn Fein right about when we are now.”

Lucy blinked, trying not to gulp. “All I have is your word on this, unless you're planning to teach me to decode it.”

But again, her mother didn't even seem to have heard. She pointed at the page. “Here, right before Brady is a name you probably haven't read about. He's not as well known. A member of the British Foreign Office from the same time period.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Lucy said, closing the book and pushing it away from her.

“Because these people aren't Rittenhouse, exactly. Not like you and me. They weren't born into it,” said her mom. She pocketed the journal again. “They're recruits. Think about it, sweetheart. Having a group that includes willing recruits across history makes our reach much wider than you could have imagined – far beyond anything your grandfather could have noticed and written down.”

Lucy realized suddenly that she was shaking. “This is supposed to make me give in?”

“To make you see reason, Lucy,” was her mom's reply. “You're too smart for this. What do you gain from fighting an impossible fight, against your own blood? Your pack?”

“This isn't my pack,” Lucy snarled, though she was still trembling. “You're not my alpha. And my real family wouldn't need me to explain why I have to keep fighting against people who manipulate history for their own ends, and don't care who gets hurt or erased while they do it.”

Her mother's face paled, and her eyes narrowed. “I'm sorry you're still so obstinate. But I'll give you time to – Lucy, are you all right?”

Lucy didn't answer. She was too busy catching herself as the world seemed to tilt to one side. This time, though, the dizziness and the blurriness of her surroundings faded quickly. It was fast enough for her to hold up a hand to her mother. “Stay away from me!”

“Lucy, you just started to recover from a severe infection, not to mention the injuries that caused the infection. You shouldn't get worked up like this.”

For some reason, she hadn't actually touched her, Lucy noticed. She took several deep breaths. Though she still didn't feel good, it didn't take long to feel a bit better. “Well,” she finally said, “if I'm not supposed to get worked up, you should leave.”

Her mom looked both sad and faintly puzzled. No, the puzzlement vanished so quickly that Lucy wasn't sure she'd seen it at all. “All right. I'll have someone bring you something to eat in a few minutes.”

Lucy didn't say anything, and her mother left. She slumped back against the head of the bed just in time to hear the door to the room lock from the outside. She didn't even know how to feel about this, her current situation. She probably wouldn't be physically attacked anymore, so that was a step up. On the other hand, her mother... Lucy closed her eyes. At least it had been simpler, back at that place. All she'd had to do was try to survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you were looking for more Wyatt and Rufus... well, I can promise there will be more next time. I guess Lucy had more to say this time around!
> 
> (Also, once again I apologize if any details, vocabulary, speech, etc. about England, Ireland, or N. Ireland aren't quite right.)


	4. Chapter 4

~~~~~~

After Noah's delivery of food for her – lunch, she guessed – and the awkward, short conversation that came with it, Lucy was left alone for quite some time. And though her room was certainly better furnished than the cell she'd come from, there was still nothing to do there.

It occurred to Lucy again, as it had when she'd talked (and cried) with Wyatt immediately after finding out about her mom, that this woman and herself probably didn't know each other as well as they might each think they did. This was a different timeline, a different life for both of them. In that case, it might be genuinely confusing to her mom that her daughter refused to be part of this. Not that Lucy felt any pity for that confusion, but maybe it could help her understand why she was so convinced that Lucy could be persuaded.

For the first time, as she thought about this, she had another thought – and it wasn't encouraging. Besides herself and her mom, she had met another historian who was part of Rittenhouse. Another woman with a PhD in history, back in 1972. Why did Rittenhouse need so many historians? And was there any particular reason that they were all women? Somehow, she doubted it was a coincidence.

This train of thought was not helping her disbelieve her mother's claims about Rittenhouse operatives throughout time. Lucy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She really, really wanted to bounce all this off Wyatt and Rufus and hear what they had to say. Who was she kidding? She needed to see them soon, whether or not they said one word between them about Rittenhouse. She just wanted to interact with people she actually liked, and who actually cared about her.

More than an hour after lunch, there was a knock at her door, and then it opened. Her mother was there, with Roger at her side. “Lucy. I want you to meet someone. I promise, you'll find this interesting.”

Lucy stood carefully. There was no dizziness, and her various aches and pains didn't seem too bad at the moment. “Really.” Despite her boredom, she wasn't at all sure she believed her mom that this would be worth getting up for.

“Really,” said her mom, even smiling a little. “This person is a teacher. You two have a lot in common.”

“And why am I talking to this teacher?” Lucy asked. For a brief moment, she felt a wave of nostalgia for her own teaching days, when getting tenure had been her biggest concern.

That was enough to make her mom sigh. “Just come, please. I don't want to force you, but I think it will be good for you – and for our guest.” Next to her, Roger was glaring.

Lucy glared back at him, then focused on her mom. “Fine.” She crossed her arms.

“Good.” They all left the room.

Once again, Lucy did her best to pay attention to the hall down which she was escorted, noticing anything she could that might be helpful later. It looked like they might be in some kind of hotel suite. No doubt her mother had pulled some strings to make sure only her people were in this part of it, if that was the case.

They entered a room labeled “Conferences”, where Lucy saw Emma with a woman she didn't recognize. Roger stayed outside the room as she and her mom went in. “Ms. Emerson,” her mother said, “I'd like you to meet my daughter, Lucy. As I told you before, Lucy is also a university professor.”

The meeting, or whatever it was, that followed was surreal. Ms. Emerson was pleasant enough. She was roughly Lucy's mom's age, or maybe a bit younger, very polite, and spoke in a very proper-sounding English accent. But the actual content of their conversation was unbelievable – and not in a positive way. First, Lucy had to swallow her indignation at the casual way that the “fact” that Lucy had been recovering from an “accident” was slipped into their introductions to each other. That was especially difficult and unpleasant with Emma sitting right there.

Still, it turned out this Ms. Emerson was a teacher, as well. She wanted to talk about establishing a private school just for Lycanth children. That wasn't a new idea, but as the woman admitted, the logistical challenges of balancing the need to keep students' Lycanth status secret while still allowing the school to get proper government accreditation had been historically too complex. No such school had ever gotten off the ground, as far as anyone knew.

And it wasn't like the idea was unappealing to Lucy. She'd wished off and on throughout her own entire education that she could have been free to be herself. Around undergrad, though, she'd started to really appreciate the benefits of not spending all her time in a Lycanth enclave. And now she couldn't imagine that kind of separation being a great idea for Rittenhouse or Rittenhouse-adjacent people. There was no way it wouldn't reinforce their biases.

That was only the beginning of her alarm, however. Apparently, something about Rittenhouse's activities in Belfast had secured a few government allies who might be willing to help in this Lycanth school endeavor. But what was worse was how Lucy's mother, Emma, and Ms. Emerson took that possibility and added in discussion of how they might accept non-Lycanth students. “I've often thought,” their guest said eagerly, “that the virus could be passed on in a careful, unobtrusive way. If we could have help from someone with experience in pathology, I'm sure something could be done to make it easier to deliver. Perhaps we could call it a vaccination.”

Lucy knew she wasn't doing a good job of hiding her horror by that point. The only reason she hadn't let that spill out into what would most likely turn into another shouting match between her and her mother was that she was frozen in disbelief. This was what her mother hoped would win her over?

“So,” Ms. Emerson was saying, “that's about the shape of it.”

Lucy inhaled, though there seemed to be a weight on her chest. “I see,” she said. Her voice sounded odd to her own ears. “Did you, um, see me in any particular role in this?”

“Oh, I wouldn't dream of overstepping,” Ms. Emerson said quickly, glancing at Carol. “I would be happy to have anyone from your family involved in any way you see fit, of course.”

“Of course,” said Lucy's mom. “I'm sure we could work something out.”

Lucy blinked. This was intolerable. Insane. But was it better to pretend to go along with it, even though every fiber in her was screaming against the entire plan? She was so completely outnumbered here.

Ms. Emerson seemed quite willing to call it a day at that point. She stood, and Emma and Lucy's mom made their farewells. Lucy just barely pulled off a handshake and a weak smile. It was while she was gearing herself up for whatever crazy arguments her mother was probably about to use once their guest was gone that Roger knocked on the door and opened it. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said. “But hotel security just told us they spotted our... friends, in the lobby.” He glanced at Lucy as he said this last phrase.

_Wyatt and Rufus_. Lucy bit back a cry. They'd found her! But was there any way they could know just how many enemies they were facing here? She doubted it.

“Emma,” said her mom. “Go coordinate with hotel security. Ms. Emerson, I'm sorry for this inconvenience, but it seems we have some unwanted visitors. The good news is they would have no reason to know who you are, so if you don't mind my not seeing you out, they'll assume you're not involved and you should be able to avoid any interaction with them.”

The woman raised her eyebrows, but didn't seem thrown by this. “Not to worry. It was wonderful to meet you all, and I hope we'll all meet again soon.” Roger held the door open for her as she exited.

As Emma started toward the door a moment later, it was like Lucy felt something snapping into place. “Wait!” She stood up. She had to do something. She was tired of being dragged around by everyone, of just reacting to everything.

Emma paused, turning to look at her. “What?”

“What are you going to do?” she asked. “If you find them?” Her hands were clenched into fists. She vaguely noticed that her left arm ached when she did that.

Her mom was the one who answered. “Lucy, that isn't your concern anymore.”

But Lucy was done. She jumped in before her mother could continue. “Wyatt and Rufus are my concern. And I won't let you hurt them. Not anymore.” As she said those words, a peculiar sensation started to spread from somewhere at the back of her skull, and she saw Emma, Roger, and even her mother freeze. Even as a part of her recognized this immediately, another part refused to believe it. Fortunately, that latter part was easy to ignore. “I'm leaving now. Don't you try to stop me, any of you. And Emma, I have a better idea for you: you can call this hotel's security right now and tell them my friends aren't a threat.”

“What the hell?” Emma said, eyes wide, though she was already moving to the phone on the wall of the room. “I thought she was supposed to be more compliant now, not become an alpha!”

“I always knew you had it in you, sweetheart,” said her mom. Her smile as she turned to Lucy looked genuinely proud, which was so bizarre. Then she took a deep breath and shook her head. “But that won't be enough to stop me. Emma, go do what I told you.”

“No,” Lucy snapped. She walked over and took the phone off the hook, then handed it to the redhead. “Call it off.” That sensation hadn't stopped. And it was amazing, how good it felt.

Slowly, Emma stretched out her hand, though she looked anything but willing.

“Oh, for heaven's sake,” Lucy's mom said, striding forward and grabbing the phone.

Lucy didn't let go, however. “Stop it. Stop trying to make me into what you want! You can't do it, Mom.” She met her eyes squarely. Her heart was beating fast, but she wasn't scared. Not anymore.

Again, her mother paused. But then she wrenched it out of her daughter's grasp and hung up. She was breathing heavily, a fact Lucy found encouraging. “I will do whatever is necessary to ensure that our race thrives.” She put a hand on Lucy's arm, and not in a comforting way. “And you will either join me, or get out of my way.”

Lucy's sense of alpha control over the situation wavered in the face of her mother using her own. But that still wasn't enough to convince her to relent. “That's just it, Mom,” she said, shaking her arm free. “I won't do either of those things. I won't stop getting in your way whenever and wherever your plans involve mutilating history and hurting innocent people.”

“Roger.” Her mother didn't look away from Lucy as she spoke. “Come here. You and I will be escorting Lucy back to her room, so that we can deal with our unwanted visitors without any more distraction.”

Roger had his hand on his holster. His expression as he looked at Lucy was the same exact one she remembered seeing him give the huge snake their pack had come across once out in the forest: wary, and wishing he didn't have to be involved. He did come closer, however.

“You going to shoot me, Roger?” Lucy asked. She had no intention of being 'escorted' anywhere, but she definitely didn't want to be shot before she'd even found Wyatt and Rufus, either.

Her mom scoffed. “Let's go.”

“I'm not going anywhere with you,” Lucy said. Then she summoned as much strength as she could, and repeated, “But I am leaving now. Just let me go, and don't any of you stop me, or Wyatt, or Rufus.” This time, she didn't wait for a reaction. She just suited actions to words.

She had made it out into the hall and several yards toward the elevator when she heard the door of the conference room open again, and then her mother's voice called, “Lucy, stop!” The added power behind the words only made her pause for a moment – which was enough time for another sound to echo in the empty hallway. It was a gunshot. And she had felt it fly past her, inches away from her head.

“That was a warning, Lucy,” her mother said, into the silence that followed.

“You could have killed me,” Lucy said, turning around. Now she didn't feel strong. She didn't even feel as devastated as she knew she should have. She just felt... blank. Her ears were ringing.

“I knew what I was doing.” Her mother's expression was more disappointed than anything.

And there was more than one way to take that comment, Lucy thought. Neither of them were good. Just then, the elevator dinged, sparing her having to respond. She turned again.

“Lucy?” It was Wyatt, with Rufus right behind him.

Her mouth fell open. Somehow, she hadn't let herself think about the prospect of actually seeing them. But she did manage to take several steps toward them.

“Lucy, duck!” Wyatt shouted then, and she was dodging a bullet for the second time in as many minutes. Immediately, he was right in front of her where she was crouching, meeting her eyes before maneuvering himself between her and her mother. His gun was still raised.

Scrambling toward the elevator, Lucy grabbed Rufus' outstretched hand and let him pull her inside. “I got her, Wyatt! Let's go!” His other hand was holding the elevator open.

Lucy turned around again in time to see her mother training her gun toward them. This standoff was not acceptable. Besides, the elevator would only be safe as long as there weren't other people with guns waiting for them at the bottom. “Mom! All of you!” There, the control was back. “Stop it. _Let us go!_ And tell everyone else to let us go, too.” Then she turned her attention to Wyatt. “Wyatt, come on.”

To his credit, though he was clearly confused, Wyatt didn't fail to take advantage of the fact that his opponents weren't moving. He back up into the elevator, and Rufus let the doors close. Then he hit the button for the ground floor, and for a moment there was silence apart from the sound of three people breathing hard.

“You okay, Lucy?” Wyatt said. His gun was still out, ready for when the doors opened.

“Yeah,” she said. “You guys?”

“We're fine,” said Rufus. “Really glad to see you.”

“Me, too.” She gave them each a long look. What she wanted to do was hug them, but this probably wasn't the time yet.

“Get ready,” said Wyatt then, with a glance back toward them. “Doors are about to open.”

They opened – to reveal a normal hotel lobby. Wyatt lowered his weapon before anyone gave them more than a glance. “Okay,” he said quietly. “Stay close, just in case.”

“No kidding,” was Rufus' response. “I'd be running out of here if that wasn't also the best way to make everyone pay extra attention to us.”

The three of them started toward the exit, as casually as they could. “Just so you know, Roger told security here to be on the lookout for you two,” Lucy informed them as they went, also keeping her voice low.

“Yeah, I kind of figured,” said Wyatt. “Which reminds me, I was going to ask you when exactly guns were banned in the UK. Since they're obviously not, right now.”

Lucy swallowed. “Oh. Right. Handguns weren't banned until after the UK's one and only mass school shooting. In, uh, 1996, I think it was.” By then they had crossed almost the whole lobby.

“Excuse me – Miss?” The voice was too close to be ignored.

Lucy turned. “Yes?” This man wasn't Lycanth. She couldn't do much to get him to leave them alone. And he did look like he could be a part of the hotel's security staff.

“You're, ah – are you all right?”

Lucy blinked. “Yes. Fine, thank you.” It was all she could do not to end that sentence with a question mark.

“It's just that we were told to watch out for two men who were described as looking a lot like these two here,” the man said, eyeing Rufus and Wyatt suspiciously.

Lucy made her own eyes widen. “Oh, really? That's... strange.”

Wyatt gave a forced chuckle. “Yeah. Weird.”

“Are you sure someone wasn't playing some kind of joke?” Rufus added.

The man frowned. “I don't think so. You're sure you're okay?” he said to Lucy.

“Never better,” she said, shrugging.

Staring at them all for a few seconds, the man finally nodded. “Right then. Sorry to have troubled you.”

“No trouble at all,” Lucy told him. “It's good to know this place cares about their guests.”

He nodded, and gave something resembling a smile. “You have a good day, Miss. Gentlemen.”

They made it outside, and Lucy blew out a breath. “That was close.”

“We're not out of it yet,” Wyatt cut in. “Let's keep moving. I want to put some distance between us and that place.”

Lucy couldn't argue with that. Rufus also had no objection, so they kept going for a few blocks. It was about then that Lucy started to slow down. It wasn't intentional. It was just that her head was starting to ache, and her arm was sore, and she thought there were a few other places that were probably also in pain, though it was hard to narrow it down at the moment. (It wasn't like she'd had the time to spend cataloguing all her injuries after transforming that morning.)

“Hey, Lucy.” Wyatt turned around. “You still with us? The Lifeboat's still a little ways away.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Sorry, I, um, I just have a headache.”

Now both of them were looking worried. “You going to make it? We can probably find a drug store or something, and get you some Tylenol. Or... whatever they call it here,” said Rufus.

She took a deep breath and let it out. “No, let's just keep going. I guess if we see a pharmacy we can stop in, but I don't want to go out of our way.”

“If you're sure,” said Wyatt.

“I am.” The two of them made as if to keep going, and then she was reminded of something. “Wait. Before we go on, there's one thing I do want to do. Come here.” She spread her arms and took a few steps forward. Neither of them needed any time at all to understand what she meant. The resulting hug was definitely the best she'd felt in forever, and her first real smile in that long, too. Of course, neither of her friends knew they were putting pressure on injuries she'd gotten from being in an actual dogfight.

She tried not to react, but Wyatt must have noticed something. He pulled away. “Lucy, are you hurt?” Rufus let go, too.

“I'm mostly better by now,” she said. “Don't worry about it. Let's just go.”

“What did they do to you?” Wyatt's expression was thunderous.

She swallowed. “Wyatt, I – I don't want to talk about it. Not here. I just want to go home right now.” She saw him look her over again, more carefully this time. Not that he would be able to see anything. “I'll be okay. Please, let's go.” Feeling like she might cry was not helping her headache.

“Okay,” he said. “But let's get a cab to take us to the edge of town.”

“I feel like more speed would probably be better, anyway, right?” Rufus put in.

Relieved, Lucy nodded. She knew they both needed to know what had happened to her – if only because parts of it could play a vital role in their fight against Rittenhouse. “Fine with me.” But if she could wait until the debrief back at Mason Industries, at least she'd only have to tell it once.

As soon as they were in the cab, Lucy leaned back and closed her eyes. She knew where the headache was coming from. From what she knew, it was common for a Lycanth with newly-discovered alpha abilities. Technically, she should have eased into it once she knew what was happening, and not tried to do too much, too soon. But she didn't regret seizing the only advantage she'd had in that situation.

“Lucy, we're here,” a voice was saying.

She opened her eyes, and then groaned, closing them again immediately. Maybe she did regret it, a little bit, if the headache was going to be this bad.

“Is she all right?”

That voice, Lucy didn't recognize. She cracked her eyes open. The driver, of course. He was looking at her strangely. “I'm fine,” she said, and scooted toward the open door. But if Wyatt hadn't been there to hold her hand when she stood, she wasn't sure if she would have been able to keep her feet.

The cab was gone and both Rufus and Wyatt were standing next to her before she was prepared to release Wyatt's hand and stand on her own. “Sorry.” She cleared her throat. “I really will be okay.” Her eyes had readjusted to the light. And now that they didn't have an audience, she supposed she could explain further. “According to what I've heard, it's pretty normal for a Lycanth to get a headache right after developing alpha abilities. It shouldn't last long.”

“Alpha abilities, huh?” Wyatt was the first to break the pause that followed that. She had been carefully looking down at the sidewalk until then, so she looked up at him. His eyebrows were raised, and he smiled just a little. “I guess that explains how you got your mom and Emma and everyone to lay off by just straight up telling them to leave us alone.”

“Yeah,” she said, feeling her face heat at the admiration in his gaze. “It obviously didn't – I obviously couldn't really control them for long, but –”

“But that's still awesome,” Rufus interrupted, grinning. “Can I say 'congratulations' here, or would that be weird?”

She laughed, in spite of the pounding of her head. “No, I'll take it. Thanks.”

Thankfully, the Lifeboat was close by that point. When they got there, Lucy paused and stared up at it. But before Wyatt could even ask if she was okay (again), she smiled. “I never thought I'd be so happy to see this thing.”

“Yeah, well, it didn't seem right to fly it without you in it, either,” Wyatt said. The look in his eyes was enough to make her stomach do a flip-flop that had nothing to do with any of her current ailments.

If his reaction was anything to go by, both she and Wyatt were startled when Rufus' voice came from behind them. “You guys, can you save the heart-eyes for later? The Lifeboat's ready to go now.”

She was sure she was blushing again, but Wyatt chuckled. “I think he just made fun of us by saying an emoji out loud like an actual word?”

Lucy couldn't help laughing, too. “Still. He's right. Home first, and then... other possibilities.”

The happiness on his face as they got into their seats was almost enough to erase her headache completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you couldn't already tell, the Time Team hug in this chapter looks a lot like the one [shared on Twitter](https://twitter.com/NBCTimeless/status/967791365777174528) by the Timeless page. Speaking of heart-eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

~~~~~~

Wyatt had never thought he'd be using skills meant for recon missions while sitting in a conference room at Mason Industries, listening to Lucy talk. But once she'd started to tell the story of what had happened to her after Emma's people had snatched her in Belfast, he'd been forced to tell himself to treat this like a situation in which any sound or movement could be deadly. The other option was to yell, or break something. Or both.

Well, he wouldn't have minded there being the option of trying to offer Lucy comfort as she recounted the heartbreakingly awful series of events she had gone through. But she had flinched when he reached out for her hand at the beginning of the debrief. Even though she'd apologized immediately afterward, everything about her body language as she went on screamed, “Don't touch me,” and he would have been the biggest asshole in the world if he had ignored that just because he needed the comfort.

So he sat, listened, and clenched his jaw until every one of his teeth ached. And she kept her eyes fixed on the table in front of her, only looking up once or twice (and never at him). He could tell that she wasn't giving all the details of what had happened at the place where Emma dumped her. But what she did give was enough for them all to get the gist: they had treated her like an animal. No, that was too generous of a description. They had treated her like some kind of lab rat, that they didn't like that much in the first place so they didn't care how the experiment ended up.

At least Lucy hadn't argued when Wyatt had begged her to go to medical first when they arrived back. And Agent Christopher hadn't objected in any way, either. So Wyatt could take a small amount of comfort in knowing that all the injuries he could imagine her having been given – since she didn't go into detail, his imagination kicked in, big time – had received some treatment.

Or, no, apparently her mom and her mom's goons had taken care of her, at least somewhat, when they “rescued” her. Wyatt was darkly glad that Lucy was under no illusions that anyone in her former pack had any altruistic motives in getting her out of there, though. But then, it sounded like it would have been impossible for her to think that, after the conversations she had with her mother.

“Okay, Lucy, we can take a break,” Agent Christopher said gently, when Lucy struggled to continue after describing that first conversation.

Wiping tears from her cheeks, Lucy shook her head. “No,” she said, although she had to take a few breaths before she could even say anything else. “No, I – I have to tell you what she did before she left.”

“Lucy,” Wyatt said, finally unable to hold back anymore, “it's okay. We'll get there. It doesn't have to be right now.”

But she shook her head again. “No. It's fine. This is important.” She scrubbed her face with one hand, and then straightened. Her face was still pale, and her eyes red, but when she spoke, her voice was clear. “Rittenhouse... they have recruits, agents, all throughout history. Or at least if they don't, my mom went to a lot of trouble to convince me they do.”

Wyatt's heart, already crushed by the weight of Lucy's story, sank at this. He didn't want to believe it. Neither did Lucy, obviously, but even as that thought passed through his mind, he knew it would be stupid to assume it wasn't true. No matter how much they might all wish for that, the right tactical move was to plan for the worst. He was already thinking along the lines of exactly what kind of operatives these people might be.

“All right,” Agent Christopher said, when she seemed to be done. “How does a break sound, now?”

To his great relief, Lucy nodded. She reached for her glass of water with a shaking hand, and downed the whole thing.

“Then let's take about twenty minutes, everyone. Get a snack if you need one, stretch your legs.” She stood up. “And Lucy?”

She looked up.

Christopher's expression was sad. “I'm sorry you have to go through this.”

Lucy blinked, and then nodded again.

Standing up, Rufus came closer. “Me, too. Although for what it's worth, as much as we need to stop these people and – and everything, the more you tell, the more I think you're a total badass.”

Lucy choked out a laugh. “Thanks, Rufus.”

“He's right,” said Jiya. “Seriously.”

“Anyway. You want us to get you anything from the vending machine?” Rufus asked.

“Uh, no, I'm not hungry,” Lucy said. “But thanks.”

“Wyatt?” Rufus asked.

He almost said no, but then it occurred to him that if he asked for something shareable, he might be able to convince Lucy to have some. “Sure. Maybe some of whatever kind of Chex Mix stuff that they have.”

Rufus and Jiya both left, so that it was just Lucy and him there. She cleared her throat. “You could have left. I would have been fine.”

“I know,” he told her. Then he sighed. “Maybe I wouldn't have, though.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh.” But she didn't seem to have anything else to add, after that.

Which was fine. This was not the time for a serious conversation about their relationship – for one thing, Rufus and Jiya would probably be back soon. And he didn't want to distract her from the debrief they still needed to finish.

That was when he saw and felt her reach over to take his hand in hers. He looked up, ready to tell her she didn't have to do anything that made her uncomfortable. But she was smiling, just a little. He squeezed her hand, and felt himself smile back.

She didn't let go for the rest of the debrief – except to have a little bit of his Chex Mix. And as she described the meeting she'd been made to attend, about starting a private school just for Lycanth, Wyatt could watch as she channeled her fear and betrayal into righteous indignation on behalf of the innocent lives that would be affected by something like that actually becoming a reality. She never stopped amazing him.

“I don't know how to look for signs of a school like that,” she was saying, “but even if my – if the Mothership doesn't make any more trips anytime soon, we have to make sure that doesn't happen. Especially not the part where non-Lycanth students are infected with the Lycanth virus.”

“I agree that we're going to need to look into this,” Agent Christopher told her, scribbling something down on the notepad she'd been using. “It would be more complicated to track, since it will look like a historical event.” She raised a hand before Lucy could speak. “But we're going to do it anyway. And if we find anything concrete enough, I would authorize a mission to intervene.”

“Thank you.” Lucy ran a hand through her hair. “The longer we wait, the more complicated it might get. Unless of course my mom was lying and the whole meeting was fake. I don't know. Everyone seemed to be genuinely into the idea, but I also can't help wondering why she would show me so much of her plans. I know she doesn't trust me.”

There was a pause. “Well, we'll look into it, regardless,” Christopher said. “At this point, we can't afford _not_ to follow what could be a genuine lead.”

“Yeah.”

Agent Christopher wrote for a few seconds, and then looked up. “All right. Then how did you get out of there? Is that when Wyatt and Rufus showed up?”

“Just about,” said Lucy. She went on to describe the showdown that had been in progress when he and Rufus had arrived on the top floor.

“Let me make sure I understand,” Agent Christopher said. “You're an alpha now? I guess I didn't realize that was something that could just happen.”

“Yeah,” Lucy said again. “There's, uh, no set circumstances that cause it. It can happen to anyone.”

“You told me it was normally with people who already have leadership ability,” Wyatt couldn't resist pointing out.

She was already blushing, so he couldn't quite tell if that comment made her cheeks more red. But she did nod. She cleared her throat. “Anyway, I was able to kind of stall everyone, I guess. I kept telling them to do the opposite of what my mom said.”

Agent Christopher looked very impressed. “Wow.”

“But – my mom's been an alpha for as long as I've been alive, at least,” Lucy went on, still clearly embarrassed. “So she resisted me much more easily than everyone else.” She gulped. “And when I tried to leave, she... she took Roger's gun. And she fired it at me. Well, it was a warning shot.”

Her suddenly faltering voice made Wyatt all the more glad that he hadn't hesitated when the elevator doors had opened and revealed Lucy's mom aiming her gun toward them. His had not exactly been a warning shot. On the other hand, he hadn't been shooting to kill, either. At that point, he hadn't been sure whether he could bear the idea of killing Lucy's mother. Now, knowing what exactly she was guilty of doing to her own daughter? Well, it had become less complicated. (Though he still preferred the idea of something else happening to permanently take the woman out of commission.)

“And then Wyatt and Rufus showed up, and, uh, we were able to get out.”

Rufus spoke up then. “I know we haven't told our part yet, but I just need to mention that Lucy's skipping the part where she ordered everyone to leave us alone on our way out of the hotel, and so they did.”

“That's not – no, that one hotel security guy still came up and tried to make me admit that you two were kidnapping me, while we were trying to leave,” Lucy said.

“But no Rittenhouse people,” he argued. “And you know they would have.”

Lucy insisted she wanted to go back to her apartment when the whole debrief was finally over. Thankfully, she hadn't said she wanted to be alone there. So Wyatt was ready to stay with her, like he had after they'd found out about her mother. (It was crazy how long ago that felt, now.)

But another night like that wasn't in the cards, apparently. Immediately after unlocking her door, Lucy had stopped dead in the doorway. “Someone's been here.”

“What?” Wyatt drew his weapon. In a low voice, he asked, “Can you tell if they're still here?”

Lucy took a careful breath, then shook her head. “The scent's not fresh. It's a Lycanth scent, though.”

“I tell you what, let me clear the apartment first, anyway.” Wyatt squeezed past her, gun still at the ready.

“There's no one here right now,” Lucy said, but her voice was still a near-whisper, and she didn't move to follow him. All she did was shut the front door as he started to move through her apartment.

“It's clear,” he reported back a few minutes later, in a normal voice. “I didn't see anything out of place, but why don't you look for yourself, and then pack a bag. You're not staying here tonight.”

“I'm not, huh?” she said, giving him a look. “And who are you calling?”

He had his phone out. “Agent Christopher. Unless you'd prefer the police?”

“No, that's fine. She should know about this.” Her arms were crossed, and she didn't move while Wyatt updated Christopher on the situation. When he was done, she spoke again. “Where have you decided I am staying, if it's not here?”

He sighed. “Look, Lucy, I'm sorry if I made it sound –”

“I know,” she cut in. “You're just trying to protect me.” She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “Can we at least _pretend_ I have a say in this, though?”

He could hear the undercurrent of fear in her voice, and his heart squeezed. “You do have a say. You want to find a hotel or something, we'll look for one. Maybe Agent Christopher has –”

But she interrupted again, this time by stepping closer and putting a hand on his arm. “No, I don't want that. I – I want to stay with you. If you're okay with that.”

“Of course I am,” he said, and then had to clear his throat around the lump that had appeared. “More than okay.”

She nodded. “Okay.” She disappeared into her bedroom, presumably to pack.

Wyatt sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He really needed to shave, he noticed. He hadn't exactly made time for that while Lucy was kidnapped by Rittenhouse. Anyway.

She was back before he had time to wonder if he should have offered to help. “You got everything you need?”

She carried the shoulder bag over to the door, and then glanced around. Then she met his eyes. “Yeah.”

Wyatt tried not to feel too much deja vu as they went to his apartment. Other than where they were going, though, it felt all too similar: Lucy stunned and exhausted by the trauma she'd just been through, not speaking a word as they drove. Her eyes closed, too, although he wasn't sure whether she drifted off or not this time.

Whatever the case was, Lucy had apologized soon after they arrived, and said she really didn't want to do anything but sleep by that point. Wyatt assured her he didn't mind, and also told her that there was no way he would let her take the couch. But since he was too wired to go to bed, himself, he was left sitting on the couch, TV volume on low, not really watching the rerun that was playing. He'd actually considered shaving, figuring it would be a useful way to pass the time. Then he remembered that he'd have to go through the bedroom to get to the bathroom. Since he didn't want to wake Lucy up, he gave up on that idea for the time being.

He had just turned off the TV, and started to think about whether he might need a drink to take the edge off when he heard a sound from the bedroom. Had she woken up? Before he could even think about it, he was at the door. “Lucy?” he said, not too loud, and then eased it open. “Lucy, are you okay?”

He could see right away that while she might not be in danger, she was not okay. She had gotten the bedsheets wrapped around her, and she was whimpering. Even in the few seconds it took to cross the room to her side, she thrashed and moaned.

“Lucy!” He was pretty sure touching her wouldn't be a great idea right now. “Lucy, you have to wake up. You're safe. It's just a dream.”

She just moaned again, tensing and then cringing.

“Lucy, it's me. It's Wyatt. You're safe,” he tried again.

She went still for a second, only to cry out. The top sheet looked like it had somehow gone partly around her neck. One of her hands was on it, but she apparently wasn't able to move it.

“Lucy, wake up,” he said, taking a step closer. Maybe if he didn't touch her, but tried to untangle the sheets? He bent down and reached for the part of the sheet that was touching her neck.

The instant he made any contact, however, Lucy jerked away with a choked-off scream. The backwards motion was so dramatic that she propelled herself all the way to the edge of the bed. Then, before Wyatt could figure out how to stop it from happening, she fell off.

“Lucy!” He hurried around to the other side of the bed. “Lucy, are you okay?”

At least she was finally free of the blankets and sheets. To his relief, she sat up a second after he'd spoken. “Wyatt?” Her voice was faint.

“Yeah, it's me. You were having a nightmare.” He came closer, slowly, not wanting to startle her.

She inhaled sharply. “Oh my God. I was there, I was back there in that gym. But it wasn't wolves, it was my mom and Roger and they wouldn't stop and I couldn't get away because of the collar.” Her voice was shaking, and she put a hand up to her neck. “It was choking me, and digging in. Stabbing me. Worse than it really was. I couldn't breathe.” Now her actual breathing was speeding up, and he could hear a hitch that he didn't like. “I couldn't breathe!”

“Hey, hey, Lucy,” he said, squatting down next to her. “It's over. It was a dream. And you're not back there. You're safe.” She hadn't said anything about them putting a collar on her, back at the debrief. The thought was nauseating.

She shook her head, and in the dim light coming in from the hallway he could see that her eyes were wide and terrified. “I still can't breathe!” she gasped, one hand still at her throat.

“Yes, you can,” Wyatt said firmly. He knew exactly what was going on now. This, he could help her with. “Look at me, Lucy. I want you to watch me and listen, and breathe with me. Okay?” He started to take slow breaths in and out, keeping his eyes on her.

Lucy was crying now, but she tried to match her breathing to his. He could tell, even though it took a while for her to be able to make any progress. But the hand that had been frantically scrabbling at her throat reached out toward him, and he took it, sitting down in front of her. Finally, her agitated breaths slowed, and she was just crying instead of fighting to breathe.

“Come here,” he said softly, and tugged on her hand. She came willingly into his arms, still sobbing. For a while, he just held her.

“How could she?” he realized Lucy was saying, several minutes later. It was hard to make it out through her tears. “How could she... do that to me?”

“I don't know,” Wyatt said, his heart breaking all over again. At least he'd had the chance to escape from his bastard of a father when he moved out. And the man had shown no interest in following him, thank God. But for Lucy's mother to have heartlessly sold her out to a man who didn't view her as human... He couldn't begin to comprehend the kind of person who would do that.

“Did she...” Lucy gulped, her face still pressed into his shirt. “How do I know if... if she ever really cared about me at all? I mean... me as a person, not just... the daughter she could... make into whatever she wanted.”

Wyatt's grip on her tightened. “I wish I had a better answer for you,” he said. His voice came out more choked than he'd planned, so he cleared his throat. “All I know is that you've already proven that she can't make you into anything. You're too strong for that. And you're too good of a person.”

Lucy didn't respond right away. She just cried. When she did break the silence again, it was to say, “But I've lost everything. I don't get... to go get Amy. I can't... ever think about my mother the same way.” She sniffed. “Even history... it's going to keep changing, and... all the time I've devoted to it, pretty soon... that might not mean anything.”

“You haven't lost me,” he told her. “And you won't.” He kissed the top of her head. It was hard to see her so lost and despairing. But if nothing else, he could make sure she knew he wasn't going anywhere.

At that, she moved back enough to look up at him. Sniffing again, she seemed to be trying to think of a response. And then she was kissing him. Her hands went up and into his hair, and her mouth opened, and he kissed her back immediately. What else was he going to do?

But even as his own hands moved to the back of her neck and into her sleep-mussed curls, Wyatt knew he had to keep a hold on himself here. “Lucy,” he tried to say, though he didn't want to stop kissing her even for a moment, “Lucy, I should – we shouldn't just –”

“Why shouldn't we?” she said, and her lips on his felt so good but even the salt taste of her tears was a reason they needed to slow down. She stroked one hand over his face. “We both know we want this.”

“Yeah,” said Wyatt. “Believe me, that hasn't changed. And I could easily see myself forgetting any of the reasons not to do this now.” He turned so that he could kiss the hand that was still on his face. “But there's one thing you should know, and that's that I haven't had my doctor's appointment yet. Haven't had the time.”

Lucy looked puzzled for just a second, and then understanding dawned. She sat back. “Oh. Right. Of course.” Then, just a second later, her expression changed to one of guilt. “God, Wyatt, I'm sorry. I can't believe I didn't even think –”

It was his turn to interrupt. “Lucy, you've got nothing to apologize about. It's not like you're taking advantage of me, or anything.” He smiled. “I'm the one who should apologize, if I gave you the impression that I don't want to kiss you. I always want to kiss you.” He suited actions to words.

She sighed when they broke apart. “Apology accepted.” And then she smiled, which pretty much canceled out any disappointment he was feeling that they really shouldn't go any further than making out like teenagers right now. “And, um, the feeling's mutual.” She leaned forward again. This time, though, the kiss was slower, less desperate.

“Okay, unless you'd prefer the floor for some reason, I'm going to suggest we move back to the bed,” Wyatt said, a little breathless. “That is, if you think you can stay there this time.”

Lucy's eyes widened in pretended outrage. “Maybe I should say I do prefer the floor. That would serve you right.”

He laughed, and pulled her up with him as he stood. Then he stopped. The oversized t-shirt she was wearing, unlike the blouse she'd been wearing back in the 80s or the one she'd changed into after, didn't cover her arms. That meant he could see the bandage on her left arm. It wasn't just a bandaid, either. It covered a good six inches of her forearm.

She must have seen where he was looking. “Wyatt, I'll be fine. I won't even have to wear this for more than a few more days.”

He swallowed, then nodded. “Good.” He knew enough to know that the anger he still felt about what had been done to her was not constructive – especially not right now. “That's good.” Besides, it occurred to him that she hadn't yet had any reason to find out about the serious bruising he'd gotten back in Belfast. (Rufus had been the one badgering him to go to medical to get it checked out, when they had arrived back.)

Lucy's yawn broke into his grim thoughts. She put a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I don't know why I'm so tired.”

“The letdown after that much stress is almost as intense as the stress itself, just in a different way. Or at least, that's been my experience,” he told her, letting his hand run down her uninjured arm. “Let's go to bed.”

She snorted.

“You know what I mean,” he said, though he did also give the smirk she probably expected.

As she climbed back into bed, he started around to the other side, toward the door.

“Where are you going?” she said. The fear was back in her voice.

“I'm just going to go turn off the light in the hall,” he told her gently. “I'll be right back.”

“Oh. Okay,” she whispered.

He finished his task quickly so he could get back to her. Then, without either of them having to say anything, they moved to face each other and Lucy was in his arms again. Her breathing was fast, but it didn't take long at all for it to slow down. “Sleep, Lucy. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere.”

Though he wasn't that surprised that she did fall asleep soon after that, what was surprising was that, despite how relatively early in the evening it still was, and all the thoughts swirling around in his brain, he felt himself start to fade into unconsciousness shortly after she did. Then again, what he'd told Lucy about stress... Just because he hadn't been kidnapped and tortured didn't mean he wasn't coming down off the adrenaline pretty hard, too. And now that she was back, she was _here_ , he could finally relax.

~~~~~~

Their peace was short-lived. Lucy tried to burrow into the bed to avoid the insistent ringing, but it was no good. It didn't stop – or at least it didn't until a second before she heard Wyatt's voice grunt out a barely-awake, “Hello.”

After that, though, things started to move very quickly. “Lucy, we have to get up,” he said, and the urgency in his voice was enough to rouse her completely. He was still on the phone, she saw, but he was also standing up and moving to go turn on the light.

It was still dark outside. Lucy did her best to wake up. “What's happening?” It was probably something bad. And it probably shouldn't have taken her that long to figure out that fact.

“Understood,” Wyatt was saying into the phone. “We'll be ready.” He hung up. “That was Christopher. Apparently her agents just caught someone outside Jiya's apartment with gas and a lighter. The guy was armed, too.”

Lucy's breath caught in her throat. “Is she okay?”

“She and Rufus are both fine, but they're being moved to a safer location. And Christopher wants us to get out, too. She's sending a car to pick us up in five minutes.”

Five minutes. Lucy forced herself to stand up and start getting her things together. Thankfully she didn't have many of them to grab. She did take a moment in the bathroom to change out of her pajama pants back into her jeans from yesterday, but other than that, she decided she didn't care what she looked like. It was, after all, sometime around 4:30 in the morning, she learned when she picked up her phone to stuff it into her bag. So she didn't have to look presentable.

“Got everything?” Wyatt said, a few minutes later. He had a bag with him, too. She envied him the ease with which he'd gotten it ready.

She nodded, and then yawned. It seemed stupid to yawn when there might be some kind of assassins trying to kill them, but she was honestly so tired that she found it difficult to be scared. She did tell herself firmly to pay attention to Wyatt, and anything he needed her to do.

Thankfully, their exit out of his apartment and move into the car Agent Christopher had sent went without any issues. Lucy tried to stay alert, but everything felt so completely unreal. Apparently she wasn't able to keep her eyes open, because the next thing she knew after the car left the parking lot, Wyatt was calling her name. “We're here.”

“Where?” She blinked. There was light in the sky now. They must have been driving for a while – a guess that was supported by the evidence of the crick in her neck from how she had been leaning back on the seat. But she still couldn't tell much about where they were now. It looked like the middle of nowhere. “What is this place?”

Their driver didn't seem like he was going to answer the question. But when the people who met their vehicle were all either in suits or in uniform, Lucy started to have an inkling. And Agent Christopher confirmed it, once the two of them – plus Rufus and Jiya, and Connor Mason, to Lucy's surprise – had all gone inside the imposing front door. “This is a bunker, owned by the US government. It's not currently in use, so I've been granted permission to keep you here, for your safety.”

“A bunker?” Lucy swallowed. That sounded like... like they were supposed to live underground now? Which didn't sound fun. At all.

“Keep us here?” was Rufus' question. “Uh, wait a minute. How long are we talking about?”

Wyatt put his hand into hers. “And does 'for our safety' mean you won't let us leave?”

Lucy tightened her grip on Wyatt's hand. That unreal feeling was coming back full-force now. Her chest hurt, like it had before, however long ago that had been, on the floor of Wyatt's bedroom.

“What I didn't tell anyone of you when I called is that Mason Industries isn't safe, either,” said Agent Christopher.

“What?” Rufus turned to stare at Mason.

“Yes, I'm afraid the fire wasn't caught before it could be started, in the case of my property,” said the man, with a bitter smile. “Not that I'm not relieved that you're all okay, because I am.”

“Oh my God,” said Jiya. “Is everyone okay? Was anyone hurt?”

“Most everyone was gone, thankfully. There were a few injuries on my security team, and, uh, one technician,” said Mason. He named the person, but Lucy didn't recognize the name. “I'm told everyone will be all right.”

That was good, Lucy thought. But there was one more question no one had asked yet. Probably, they didn't want to sound callous. “What about the Lifeboat?” The words came out fainter than she had expected.

Mason sighed. “I wouldn't call it destroyed, but the grim fact is that it will need a lot of work before it can be used again.”

The silence in reaction to this statement was deafening. Or maybe that was something else. Lucy was aware that something was off with her right now. She didn't feel like trying to figure that out at the moment, though.

“So... where is it now?” Rufus finally asked.

“Here,” said Agent Christopher. “Downstairs.”

Lucy shivered.

“And on that note, we should all get down there and start planning our next moves,” Christopher added. She led them into the next room, which was more of a lobby next to what looked to be a large elevator. By now Lucy's grip on Wyatt's hand was tight enough that she could barely feel her own fingers.

She made it through the elevator ride. Part of the reason she could was that it wasn't as long as she was expecting – apparently they weren't going as far down as she'd dreaded. Still, the idea of being underground was not at all pleasant. She could feel Wyatt's concerned gaze on her during the trip down.

Somehow, maybe because Wyatt showed no sign of letting go of her hand or wanting to put any space at all between them, she also made it through Agent Christopher's quick tour of the bunker. But that was about it. Thankfully, the tour ended at the rooms where they would be sleeping. Lucy found the bed closest to a bank of windows (there was no view of anything, of course, but the glass still seemed to let in some actual sunlight) and stood next to it. “I...” she said, when Christopher and the others made to move on, “I need a minute. Before we, uh, strategize or whatever's supposed to happen next.”

Agent Christopher gave her a long look.

Lucy let her eyes fall away from the other woman's gaze. She still felt... weird, and also like she might start crying if she had to talk about that fact to anyone.

But Christopher just nodded. “You all just got here. Let's take fifteen minutes or so to settle in, and then we'll reconvene in the mess hall.”

By the time the others had left the room, leaving just Lucy and Wyatt, Lucy had to sit down or risk falling. She did so, trying to breathe normally. Was that it? Was this all because she was about to have another panic attack? How many hours had it even been since her last one?

“Lucy, hey, talk to me,” Wyatt was saying. He was standing in front of her, bending down, one hand slightly raised as if he hadn't decided what to do with it.

She opened her mouth, but then closed it and shook her head, running a hand through her hair. “I don't know what to say. It's my mother's fault that we're all here, hiding. That that man, that technician is in the hospital. That the Lifeboat is non-functional. And we can't even do anything about any of it until the Lifeboat's fixed.”

“Yeah, but you said it yourself: none of those things are your fault,” Wyatt said. The hand that was raised moved slowly toward her face, like he wasn't sure if he was going to freak her out more.

Lucy took it in hers and then leaned into his palm. “I don't know, Wyatt. I'm not even close to – to dealing with everything that happened when I was kidnapped, and now this?”

He sat down next to her on the cot, causing it to creak as he did so. “It's a lot. More than anyone should have to deal with.” Putting an arm around her shoulders, he added, “But I'm here. We're going to get through this.”

Leaning her head on him, Lucy tried to believe that. It was definitely easier with him there, solid and warm and real. She sighed. Then, suddenly, she sat up straight with a cry.

“What?” The arm that wasn't wrapped around her was reaching toward his waist, where Lucy assumed was a weapon.

“We're stuck here now for who knows how long, right? And...” She swallowed. Of course. She should have known better than to allow herself to hope. “And you never had the chance to see the doctor about a prescription.” She stood up and took several steps away from him. “I should – I have to...” Then she turned around and fled from the room.

“Lucy, wait!” He caught up to her almost immediately, grabbing her arm out in the hall. “Where are you going?”

She wiped a few tears from her cheeks, pulling her arm away in order to do so. There really wasn't anywhere for her to go, of course. “I'm sorry, I know this affects you, too, but I ...” The weight of the concrete between her and outside suddenly felt much, much heavier. Her chest was tight again. It wasn't fair. They were both finally in a headspace where they were ready for a relationship and everything that came with it, and now it was impossible.

“You know we're not going to be down here forever, right?” Wyatt said gently. “Which doesn't make it fun at the moment, I agree.”

Lucy tried to control her breathing. Maybe he had a point; maybe she was jumping too quickly to the worst case scenario. “Aren't you fed up with this?”

Wyatt scoffed. “With Rittenhouse trying to take over the world and making the lives of people I care about miserable? Yeah, I'm way past fed up.”

Looking down, Lucy shook her head. “No, I know that. I'm talking about us.”

Wyatt's eyes widened. “Lucy, stop. It kills me that you feel like you have anything to be sorry about.”

She felt tears fill her own eyes again, this time mostly because of his utter sincerity. “But you deserve more.” She'd wondered before if she would have had the strength to tell Wyatt she wasn't interested in him like that, in some alternate universe where she was a good enough liar to make him believe it.

“I thought we'd covered this,” he said, and this time when he stepped closer and put his hands on her arms, she didn't move. “I can say it again, though. You're saying you want me to be happy?”

She nodded.

“Well, good. Because you're about the only thing that's made me really happy in years,” he said. “And you deserve to be happy, too.” He stroked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Which is something I'd like to be part of.”

Some of the weight bearing down on her eased. “It just seems like it's never going to be our time.”

“I don't buy that,” Wyatt said. “This can be our time right now. We're together, we're safe and healthy. I mean, relatively.”

Lucy couldn't hold herself back from touching him any longer. She put her hand on his face, too. “You really don't mind that we have to wait, again?”

“I didn't say I didn't mind.” Wyatt gave a slight head-shake, with a hint of that trademark smirk of his. “But I'm not going to give up just because we have to wait.” The smirk became a full-blown grin. “In fact, I'm wondering if there's some way we can get Agent Christopher to help. You need your prescriptions, anyway, so maybe we can just add another into the mix.”

Lucy laughed, which was the last thing she had thought she would be doing at this moment. “Well, I kind of doubt that. It's a whole other deal, a different dosage and everything. But I do like the way you think.” She took another step closer, so that they were inches away from each other. Then she angled her face toward his and kissed him. It didn't take long for her to feel breathless again, but this was the kind of breathlessness she could definitely live with.

It wasn't until someone cleared their throat from just a few feet away that Lucy had any idea that they weren't alone. She ducked her head, though part of her still wanted to keep kissing Wyatt and damn the consequences. By the breaths she could feel from him and the fact that he didn't move away from her, she guessed Wyatt felt the same.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt.” It was Jiya, looking uncomfortable. “Sorry. I was just coming to see if – if you guys are okay. I think Agent Christopher wants to start soon.”

Wyatt still hadn't moved. Lucy turned slightly, so she could at least sort of face Jiya. “Uh...” It was hard to come up with something coherent to say. “Um, okay. We'll be right there.”

Jiya's gaze went between them. She still looked embarrassed, but there was a faint smile starting to form, too. “Okay.” She turned and left them in the middle of the hallway.

She had completely forgotten, that they were in the middle of the hallway. But she found that she didn't really care that Jiya had seen them. Nor that she would probably tell Rufus the first chance she got. In fact, Lucy was smiling, and she mostly felt relieved. No matter what happened next for the two of them, it seemed like some kind of threshold had been crossed for good.

Wyatt reached out his hand, and Lucy took it. He squeezed hers gently, and then cleared his throat. “Shall we?”

“I guess we should. But first...” She leaned forward and kissed him again, just because she could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about waiting until episode 2 airs, but then I decided this chapter was long enough already. I think I'm going to try to keep this somewhat reminiscent of canon, but still my own AU in more ways than just the whole werewolf thing.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy! And I hope we all continue to enjoy the awesomeness that season two seems to promise!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost an entire month without an update! Sorry, folks. I've been getting ahead of myself, literally - trying to write down stuff that happens later on in the season, as each new episode inspires. (This season is SO good but so angsty.)
> 
> Anyway, we're finally getting to some of the missions from S2 here. Enjoy!

~~~~~~

The problem with how he'd needed to reassure Lucy that they could get through this was that Wyatt then felt extra bad about complaining when it turned out that this whole thing with them living in a bunker and not even being able to chase Rittenhouse – while also not being able to be with Lucy the way he wanted – was actually really difficult. So he didn't complain. He focused on trying to keep Lucy happy, instead.

Sometimes it was easy. Sometimes, especially early on in their stay, he could suggest a card game, or a movie (there was only a random selection available in the bunker, though Jiya had mentioned something about “acquiring” other titles) once their strategizing and research was over for the day, and that was enough.

But some days, cheering her up seemed impossible. She hadn't cried much since they got there. If they had still been working the way they had been, and going their own separate ways after work, Wyatt thought it might have taken him longer to notice, since she was still putting as much effort into work as she always had. Maybe more.

Yet when she wasn't working, he would often catch her staring at nothing, a bleak expression on her face. He learned immediately that she would snap out of it quickly enough and say she was fine, when he asked. Or when one of the others asked. But he remembered doing the exact same thing, after Jess. And it hadn't been true when it had been his loved ones asking him if he was okay, either. Jiya had let slip that Lucy hadn't been sleeping at night, either, as much as she could tell from the cot across from her.

So he resolved to do something about it, before things got worse. The Lifeboat wasn't going to be fixed in the next few days. He may not be an engineer or physicist or whatever, but he could pick up on that much. That meant there was time to help Lucy, even if she might not appreciate it at first.

With that in mind, he waited until she was engrossed in a discussion of temporal paradoxes with Rufus and Mason, and then slipped away to contact Agent Christopher. She had told them she was just a phone call away for whatever they needed. And this was definitely necessary.

Yet his request wasn't going to be easy to grant. “Look, Wyatt, I understand you're worried about her. God knows she's been through hell. But the team has only been in hiding for a couple of weeks, and our best bet for making sure no one finds you is limiting the number of people who have been told where you are.”

Wyatt sighed. “I see that, ma'am, but I also know from personal experience how important it is to start soon, dealing with something this traumatic. Otherwise, she could end up with PTSD.” He decided not to tell the agent that it was his impression that she was on her way there already. Lucy was going to be angry enough with him for doing this much.

He heard Agent Christopher let out a breath of her own. “All right. Let me see if I can at least figure out a way for a trusted doctor to video call in.”

“Thank you, ma'am,” said Wyatt, and a tiny part of his anxiety for Lucy relaxed.

After a short pause, Christopher spoke again. “I'm guessing Lucy didn't ask you to talk to me about this?”

“No,” he said, and then he remembered his half-joking idea to ask the agent about Morfex, and cleared his throat. If he was actually going to do that, he thought he'd have to wait to talk to her in person. “No, she didn't.”

She made a noncommittal sound, and then said, “Would you prefer I leave out the fact that you were the one who brought up this issue, when I talk to Lucy?”

Wyatt almost said yes. But then his brain reminded him that if she found out later – which she probably would – she would be even madder at him for lying or keeping a secret. “No, ma'am. I'll, uh, I'll try to find a way to tell her about this phone call later today.”

“That would probably be for the best. I'll stop in tonight to check in on everyone,” Agent Christopher said. “And I'll make it a priority to find someone Lucy can talk to.”

Thanking her again, Wyatt ended the call. Now he just had to figure out that way of telling Lucy. But no, overthinking it was a bad idea. He would just have to do it.

And he wouldn't have to wait around for that, either. She came into the room a minute later. “There you are. Where did you go?”

“I was calling Agent Christopher, actually,” he said, straightening. “I needed to ask her something.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Something private?”

“Something I didn't think everyone needed to hear, yeah,” he told her. “I, uh, I was thinking about everything you've been going through. So I asked her if there was any way you could have someone to talk to. A doctor.”

Lucy paled. “What did you tell her?” She crossed her arms.

“I didn't tell her anything. She knows what I know – what you told us in the debrief. I just reminded her that trauma like that doesn't usually go away on its own.”

“What, you think I'm cracking up?” she asked flatly. “And you and Agent Christopher are talking about this behind my back?”

His heart squeezed. “Nobody said you're cracking up.” He went closer to her, and at least she didn't back away or storm off. “It's just that, when you go through something – when anyone goes through something like this, it's really important to deal with it without waiting too long first.”

Lucy was still frowning, still looked hurt, but she was listening. “And your reasoning for skipping talking to me about it, and going straight to Agent Christopher instead?”

“I thought you might take it better coming from her.” Wyatt sighed. “And then while I was talking to her, I realized that I actually didn't feel good at all about going behind your back like that. So I told her I'd tell you as soon as I hung up.”

Sniffing, Lucy uncrossed her arms and met his eyes. “Well, that last part was a good call,” she said, and her voice only wavered slightly.

“I'm sorry I didn't talk to you first,” Wyatt said. “I should have.”

She nodded. “What did she say? Agent Christopher?”

“She's looking into the possibility of someone doing a video call in,” he told her. “So he or she doesn't have to know where we are.”

“Oh.” She took a deep breath and blew it out. “But would I be allowed to talk about time travel? Rittenhouse? Because I don't know how to talk about all of this without mentioning those things, but...”

“I get that,” said Wyatt. “And I think Christopher does, too.”

She nodded again. “Okay.”

He had expected more argument, or at least more anger from her. It honestly unnerved him. “Okay.”

And evidently she picked up on that. She huffed a breath. “Wyatt, I'm not stupid. And it's not like I've never learned anything about trauma or therapy before. I get that talking to someone would be a good idea.” Then she gave a little shrug. “I guess I... I just hoped I could talk to you, and that would be enough.”

Wyatt suddenly had a hard time swallowing – or breathing. With difficulty, he cleared his throat. “Thank you for that.” He stepped close enough to take one of her hands. “But I'm no therapist.”

“You did pretty well in Nazi Germany,” she said softly.

God, he could get lost in those huge dark eyes of hers. “I'm glad. And you can always talk to me about anything, but I'm not a professional.”

“I know.” She squeezed his hand. “You have other areas of expertise.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

~~~~~~

Wyatt had good reason to be glad Agent Christopher had found that doctor for Lucy, once the Lifeboat was fixed and their trips in time started back up. Their trip to WWI brought them right into Carol Preston and Emma Whitmore's path again, and it didn't take long for that to get ugly. Lucy was the one who found them. They weren't involved in the battle itself, it seemed, but had some sort of adjacent mission that somehow involved Marie Curie's recently-invented portable X-ray machines.

Wyatt, Lucy, and Rufus tracked the two Rittenhouse women – plus Curie and her daughter – from a distance. They had also occasionally seen them accompanied by a guy in a soldier's uniform, that Lucy informed them was also Lycanth. Extra muscle, Wyatt assumed. Meanwhile, the Time Team had been relying on Lucy to tell them what position would be most likely to not get them noticed by enhanced Lycanth senses.

When the Curies got ready to drive the other two in their mobile X-ray unit (Lucy informed the team that these were called “petite Curies”), that meant he and Rufus had to find a vehicle of their own, ASAP. And it became much more difficult to follow their targets while remaining unseen. As they approached what looked like a small village, quite a distance away from the camp, they decided it was better to ditch the car.

It was full dark by the time they reached the house. Again, it was Lucy who figured out the best direction to approach. But as they got closer and closer, it seemed like something was up with her. Finally, Wyatt had to ask. “What is it, Lucy?”

She stopped, and bit her lip before looking at him and Rufus. In a matching low voice to his question, she said, “I... I don't know. It's weird. It's like I recognize someone else in there, in that house. Maybe it's the man they need the X-ray for? Anyway, he smells like he should be a relative. On my mom's side. But I don't have any other relatives.” Then she scoffed. “Although, I mean, it's not like I knew about Emma before all this, so who knows?”

“If he's a relative of yours,” Rufus said a minute later, hesitant, “and he's the reason why they need the X-ray, then maybe there's a good reason you don't know him. Maybe it's not so much that no one told you, but that he was dead before you would ever have met.”

Lucy's eyes widened. “Oh.” She rubbed a hand over her face. “Right.” She sighed. “So he was supposed to die, probably in battle, but now they're saving him. And...” She trailed off, and then swallowed. “He must be important to Rittenhouse, if he's why my mom and Emma are here.”

That didn't sound good. Wyatt cleared his throat. In fact, it sounded like he should probably gear himself up for trying to take out another member of Lucy's family tree. Which he did not relish.

But Lucy had straightened. “So I guess we'll have to kill him,” she said, and her voice didn't shake. “He was supposed to die, anyway.”

Rufus gave Wyatt a look. “We're shooting injured American soldiers now?”

“We still need to actually see what's going on,” was what he said. “Let's go.”

“Who are you, and what are you doing out here?” a distinctly French-accented voice said, at that moment.

Lucy was the first to speak, after they all turned to face whoever this woman was. “Wyatt, don't point your gun at her,” she said quickly. “That's Irene Curie!”

The young woman blinked and frowned, but didn't seem all that thrown. “Yes, I am Irene Curie. But you still haven't answered my question.”

Wyatt lowered his weapon. “Sorry, ma'am,” he said. “We're on the trail of some spies. Two women, German operatives trying to rescue a third man and bring him back.”

Irene Curie raised her eyebrows. “You three are Allied counterintelligence?”

“Yes,” said Lucy. “And you and your mother might be in danger. These people are ruthless. If you get in their way, they won't hesitate to hurt you, maybe even kill you.”

“All they've asked us is to use our machine to help them remove shrapnel from a wounded soldier,” said Irene. “But the images are not clear. I was just going to check the connections on the battery.”

“You should get out, as soon as you can,” Lucy said. “It's not worth risking your lives.”

“We'll take care of these three,” Rufus added.

“All right,” said Irene. “But I need to check those connections, either way. Otherwise I expect these spies will grow suspicious.” From the way she said it, Wyatt couldn't tell how much she believed their story. It didn't matter that much, he guessed, as long as neither of the Curies got into trouble.

“Okay, but please be careful,” Lucy said. When the other woman had left, she shook her head. “Oh my God, I just had a conversation with Irene Curie.”

Wyatt felt himself smile. Lucy's excitement at meeting her heroes was always so genuine, and so endearing. But they had a job to do. “Come on. Tell us all about her later, when we're all safe.”

Lucy nodded, and they set off again. There wasn't a great position from which to do recon without being spotted, though. It was too dark. Even Lucy's excellent night vision didn't help them out much. 

Before they could find a good spot, there was a small commotion at the door of the farm house. The three of them ducked down behind some bushes. Lucy hissed, “It's Irene and her mom. It looks like they're leaving.”

“Alone?” Wyatt asked.

“Yeah.” Lucy sounded relieved. A minute later she said, “Wait. Is that my mom and Emma? It looks like it is. And they're bringing a guy on a stretcher.”

They had to do their best to follow them, again with Lucy attempting to guide them in a route that wouldn't get them detected immediately. It was slow going, though, and she fretted that this direction was more difficult, because of the way the wind was blowing. But it worked for a good fifteen minutes of careful tracking.

“The Mothership,” Lucy whispered, then. She was the first to see it in the dim light. “They're taking this guy home? Is that it?”

“That cannot be good,” Rufus whispered.

Then Lucy gasped. “No,” she said, strained, still looking toward the Mothership. “The Curies. They found it. They haven't left.” Before either Wyatt or Rufus could reply, she suddenly pushed past them both and shouted, “No! Stop! Don't hurt them!”

Wyatt still couldn't tell for sure, but he thought he was getting better at being able to tell when she was using her alpha abilities. Still, he ran the few steps it took to catch up to her, Rufus at his side.

Neither Emma nor Carol had moved, though Carol was frowning. “Lucy.”

Emma's gun was still trained on the two Curie women. “I'd really hoped you were all dead,” she grunted.

“Sorry to disappoint,” Wyatt said, his own weapon up and aimed at the redhead.

Lucy didn't look at either of her teammates as she went forward. “Give me that,” she said to Emma, then yanked the gun out of the other woman's hands. Then she turned to the Curies. “Go. Now!”

Thankfully, those two didn't seem to need any further encouragement. Wyatt thought it was Marie who murmured a quiet, “Thank you,” before they both disappeared.

And now Lucy was aiming the gun at Emma. “Tell me who this man is.” She was still using that commanding tone, too.

“His name is Nicholas Keynes,” said Emma, angrily.

“Emma, stop,” Carol Preston snapped, with something similar in her voice to the way Lucy had just spoken.

“Why is he so important to Rittenhouse? Tell me,” Lucy asked immediately, that quality still there.

“He's the one who first proposed time travel as a way to accomplish our goals as an organization,” Emma said, again sounding furious.

“Stop!” Carol shouted again. “Lucy. Just take your team and get out of here.”

Lucy's fingers twitched on the grip of the gun. She bared her teeth. “No. I'm not letting you take some whacko relative of ours to the present.”

“So you'll shoot your sister, instead?” Carol asked.

“She's not my sister,” Lucy snapped. “We may share some genes, but believe me when I tell you, you're not going to make me think twice about stopping you by guilting me over _her_.”

“Funnily enough,” Emma said then, one hand moving toward what Wyatt guessed was an inner pocket, “I feel exactly the same way about you.”

It was his turn to yell, “Stop!” And while he had no Lycanth alpha ability to use, he knew Emma knew he was armed. “Why don't you just keep your hands up, hmm? Both of you.” He absolutely didn't trust Carol not to be armed, as well.

Both women did as he said. But Emma still had her eyes fixed on Lucy. “In fact, I should tell you, Princess, about that other sister of yours. You know, the one you _love_ so much, who was erased?”

“What about her?” Lucy said, narrowing her eyes and shifting her grip on the gun. Wyatt found himself wishing she wasn't holding it. He couldn't see this ending well, especially if Emma was about to threaten Amy somehow.

“This isn't the first trip I've made in the Mothership,” Emma said. “Before this, I had another mission. And that was to make absolutely sure that your mutt of a sister can never exist again, no matter what you do. She's gone. Forever.”

“No!” Lucy's voice broke in the middle of the cry. But then she lunged forward and grabbed Emma by the front of her clothes with her left hand. Her right hand had the gun at Emma's temple.

“Lucy!” That was Carol's voice. But Wyatt turned his gun on the woman when she tried to move. Privately, though, he wished he could have a word with Lucy, too. The expression on her face made his stomach twist. It wasn't so much that he didn't want Emma dead, because he did. He was afraid, though, of what it might do to Lucy if she was the one to do it. Especially like this.

Lucy's voice shook, but neither of her hands did. “I don't know what kind of twisted person acts like you, but I think the world would be better off without that kind of person.”

“You don't have it in you,” Emma said, with her usual sneer. “Besides, I just do what I'm told. By our mother.”

Lucy made a sound like someone had punched her. She let go of the redhead and stumbled backwards. A second later, though, she raised the gun again – at the same time that Emma had reached into that pocket again and Wyatt had shouted a warning. He didn't think he was the only one who shouted something, either – and a gun had been shot.

Now Lucy was on the ground, and Wyatt's heart went into his throat. He barely remembered to keep his eye on the enemy as he rushed to her. But it was Emma who had a red stain growing on her left arm, not Lucy. The woman had fallen backwards, too, though it looked like she'd caught herself on the stretcher.

Wyatt knew he hadn't fired. Still making sure neither of the Rittenhouse women were up to anything, he knelt down next Lucy. “Are you okay?”

Blinking, she nodded. “I'm not hurt. I – I think it was the recoil. The gun went off. I don't remember firing.” She glanced down to the weapon in her hand.

“Knew you didn't have it in you, Princess,” Emma said, struggling to her feet.

“Oh, give it a rest, Emma,” said Carol sharply, but Wyatt didn't think she was using that tone of command. “For God's sake, you've just been shot.”

“And I'd be happy to finish the job,” Wyatt added. He helped Lucy up. She didn't let go of him – or the gun she'd taken from Emma.

“So this is interesting,” Rufus said suddenly. He was holding up something, for them all to see. “Must have fallen out of your pocket when Lucy winged you, Emma.”

Emma's eyes widened. Uncharacteristically, she had no quick retort.

“Is that a phone?” Lucy asked.

“Looks like it,” Rufus said. “Not that there's any service in World War I France, but there do seem to be some interesting documents here.”

The redhead moved her hand as if going for that second gun Wyatt was sure she had. “Uh uh,” he said, raising his gun again. “I tell you what. Let's call it a draw. You take your zombie, we take your phone, and we all go back home. Though I'm guessing the two of you won't have much fun getting your guy back on the Mothership, with one of you injured.”

Emma swallowed, then glanced back at Carol.

“Fine,” said the older woman. “Truce it is.” She sounded tired.

Lucy didn't actually look too pleased. But she still hadn't let go of his arm, which made him think she was either physically hurt after all, in some not-so-obvious way, or that she was more shaken than she had seemed earlier. She nodded.

He escorted her away from the Mothership, one hand staying ready in case anyone tried anything. But apparently that really was it, for now. Rufus pocketed the phone, and the three of them made their way back toward where they had left the Lifeboat. Once they were out of sight of the others, Lucy silently handed Wyatt Emma's gun.

The quiet was starting to freak him out at this point, as relieved as he was that the confrontation was over. He took the gun and unloaded it, before putting it in his pocket. If it had gone off without her meaning it to, he wasn't going to risk that happening again.

“Oh,” she said then, stopping. “I guess I should take this out, too, before we get back in the Lifeboat.” She let go of him and reached into the bag she had been carrying. Then she pulled out something that fit in one hand. “Should we just leave it somewhere, or what?”

It was a grenade. When had she picked that up? He blinked. “Uh, no, I don't think that would be a great idea. We can take it back. Carefully. You should keep it in your bag for now.” She put it away.

Rufus blew out a breath. “What exactly were you going to do with that?”

It was dark, but Wyatt was pretty sure she was blushing. “I thought we might be able to use it to blow up the Mothership. But I knew my aim would be terrible, and I didn't have a chance to give it to Wyatt.”

“Well, there's always next time,” Wyatt said, trying for a light tone.

She smiled faintly. It didn't last. Instead, she took a deep breath. “Emma is... some kind of psychopath. I mean, she has to be, right?”

“Neither of us is going to disagree with you there,” Rufus said.

Lucy was staring ahead into the darkness. “I don't want... I can't stand the idea of being related to her.” She put her arms around herself. “So I couldn't be like her. I couldn't shoot her in cold blood, no matter how angry she made me.”

There was silence again for a moment. He wanted to tell her he didn't want her to do that, either, but that wasn't what she needed right then. It would have sounded pretty condescending, if nothing else. “You're not like her. Or your mom,” Wyatt said finally. “You couldn't be.”

“Yeah, I don't think your apple is even in the same yard as that tree,” Rufus added.

That made her actually chuckle. “Thanks. Both of you.”

~~~~~~

It had been dangerous, Lucy realized later, to have gone as far as they did together in the hidden trunk of Wendell Scott's car. Not too insane, she guessed, since there wouldn't have even been room for them to try to go much beyond kissing. (Of course, they hadn't even ended up getting that far, more's the pity.) But she hadn't been thinking about how Wyatt still hadn't had the chance to get a Morfex prescription. She hadn't been thinking about anything except how close he was to her. It shouldn't have been possible for anything to make her forget that she was trapped in such a tight space. But Wyatt's sincere, serious, ridiculously handsome face and his warm, comforting presence had been enough... though she couldn't actually say it had been relaxing. Her heart had probably been beating just as fast as it would have if she'd been alone in there – only for an entirely different reason.

Still, despite the irresponsibility of that moment, Lucy couldn't help smiling – both when they were discovered by Wendell and Rufus, and then later whenever she thought about it. Making out with a guy in the trunk of a car was so not a thing she had ever imagined herself doing, for so many reasons. And yet it had felt totally natural in the moment.

She found him after dinner, in the common area of the bunker. The others had dispersed, as much as that was possible in this place. “You know,” she said, sitting down next to him on the couch, “you're a bad influence, Wyatt Logan.”

He raised his eyebrows, a hint of that trademark smirk at the corner of his mouth. “Oh yeah? How so?”

“You think you're so smooth, telling me to hold onto you today in the trunk.” She scooted even closer. “Very big of you, offering yourself as a distraction to my claustrophobia.”

With a scoff, he reached over to tug her until she was almost in his lap. “Still not hearing anything actually that qualifies as me being a bad influence,” he said, the smirk full-blown now.

She laughed. Or was that a giggle? She didn't care. “You don't think coaxing a girl into making out in the trunk of your idol's car counts?”

“Hmm,” he said, pretending to consider the question. He was very close to her again, she noticed. Distractingly so. “See, the way I remember it, there was no coaxing involved.”

“Still,” she breathed, though she had half-forgotten what she was supposedly chiding him for.

“Uh huh,” said Wyatt, not very coherently, and then kissed her.

“That's better,” she managed, when they stopped to inhale. “No interruptions this time.”

“Did you guys-” That was Rufus' voice, although he broke off quickly. “Oh! Geez.” She looked up in time to see him staring purposefully at the floor, blushing. “I'd tell you two to get a room, but this place being what it is, I know I can't do that. Um.”

“You had to go and jinx it,” Wyatt groaned to her, under his breath. Then he sighed. “What is it, Rufus?” One of his hands was on her arm, and he stroked it absently while staring at their friend.

“I was just coming to ask if you wanted to play cards with me and Jiya,” he said, clearing his throat.

Lucy echoed Wyatt's sigh. “What's the game?”

Scratching the back of his head, Rufus barely met her eye. “Jiya suggested Hearts.”

She bit her lip. “Well, I am really good at that game.”

Wyatt rolled his eyes, but then he cocked his head. “All right. Fine. Then I expect to be impressed.”

She grinned, scooting off him and standing up. “Me, too.”

“Oh, Lord, you two are going to be flirting the whole time, aren't you?” Rufus said. “And the worst part is, Jiya will probably think it's adorable.”

Lucy laughed out loud at the flush that crept up on Wyatt's face, at that. “Come on,” she said, pulling on his hand so that he had to stand. “She won't think it's so _adorable_ when we beat them.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so I actually wrote most of this a while ago, which is why I'm already posting another chapter. The other reason I'm already posting again is because that sneak peek for episode six made me unhappy and I wanted to post something that was at least definitely Lyatt, even though there's still angst aplenty.
> 
> Anyway. Here it is - the change that this story's title refers to!

~~~~~~

“Oh my God,” Lucy said, suddenly feeling like her body had been plunged into ice. “Oh, no.”

“What?” Wyatt said.

She struggled to swallow. “I just recognized this place. Or at least, I think I do. And it's... not good.”

“You mean, worse than us having been dragged here at gunpoint?” Rufus asked.

“Yeah, it's worse.” She took a few steps toward the fireplace, and then pointed at what hung above it. “That? Isn't fake. It's an actual skull – of a wolf.” Even if she hadn't been able to tell by the shape and the historical context, there was enough of a scent on it that she could confirm by that route.

Rufus grimaced. “Um, okay. That's gross and weird, but I'm guessing there's some other meaning you're about to tell us, and I'm going to like it even less than I already do.”

Lucy blew out a breath. There had to be a way to make sure they all made it through this alive. “You're absolutely right about that. I'm ninety-nine percent sure it's a symbol of the so-called 'Gang of Monsters', a group of radical Lycanth who were active at this time. They're pretty obscure because they didn't make much of an impact. Lycanth were mostly just interested in hiding during this era, so the Gang wasn't able to get enough recruits to do much. Plus, most Lycanth don't actually want to be known as monsters, and never did.” She turned away from the fireplace. “Anyway. I don't know whose house exactly this is. But the point is, if it's one of the leaders of the Gang, what I do know is that he – I think it's a he – won't be interested in, well, in keeping you two alive for very long.”

There was a short silence. “So we have to get out of here, then.” Wyatt was the first to speak.

“We should try,” said Lucy. She cleared her throat. “But if we can't find a way, I think, um, I think there's something else I can do. That might keep you both safe.” Damn it, blushing right now was not helpful in the least. She didn't have time to be embarrassed. They didn't know how long it would be before their host came to see them, or had them brought to him, or whatever.

“What kind of thing?” Wyatt asked.

“Well, for you, I probably don't need to do much.” She pushed past the awkwardness and came close enough to kiss him soundly, running her hands through his hair, too. He was obviously not expecting that, but he didn't push her away, either. Of course, part of her wanted kissing Wyatt to be what she was doing now. Still, she made herself break away, and then turn from his confused face to Rufus' very baffled, maybe even alarmed one. She cleared her throat. “I'm pretty sure if I can convince this guy that, uh, you're... that I'm your alpha, both of you, he wouldn't want to kill you.”

Rufus' eyebrows went even higher. “Oh,” he said, his voice cracking. “Uh, you're not planning on kissing me, though, right?”

Wyatt made a choking sound, and Lucy felt her cheeks redden again. “No! God, no. We just need to be able to prove that we're a kind of pack. By scent, mostly. Otherwise we could be lying.” She took a step toward him. “I think a hug would be enough for now.”

“That, I can do,” Rufus said, and even managed a smile.

She hugged him tightly. She really was lucky to have him as a friend. Once they were done, she met his eyes. “But this guy is still going to have questions.” She didn't like the first ideas her mind went to, in terms of an explanation.

Unfortunately, before she had a complete story in mind, they started to hear the sounds of what had to be people coming down the hall. “Follow my lead,” she said to the others. “Although that said, you can keep thinking about any other possible way out of here, too.”

The door opened. Lucy could tell instantly who was the boss here. First of all, he had the nicest suit of the three men who entered, and secondly, the other two acted like guards. They didn't speak, either – just took up positions to the side and slightly behind their leader. (Their alpha, too, Lucy guessed.)

“So. You're the were doll my people picked up sniffing around my business with her two non-were guys.” The man looked her up and down.

Lucy forced herself to meet his gaze without flinching or blushing, despite the way his eyes lingered on certain areas of her body. “And who are you?”

He laughed. “Mick Bennington. Maybe you've heard of me.”

“Maybe,” Lucy said, noncommittal. “I've heard of your Gang, anyway.”

His eyebrows rose. “Is that so? Well, maybe it escaped your understanding, but my Gang is about weres first, and no weak, pathetic humans allowed.”

“I didn't say I wanted to join,” Lucy pointed out. “Your goons dragged us here.”

Mick laughed again. It wasn't a pleasant sound. “That's true. My point is, you're interesting to me, but these other two? I'd just as soon have my guys shoot 'em right now.”

Lucy felt Wyatt and Rufus tense, but again she forced herself not to react like she wanted to. “Well, I won't let you.” She felt the change that meant she was using her alpha ability.

Mick stilled, his eyes widening, and then he smiled broadly. “An alpha female? You just get more and more interesting, girl. Why would a pretty little dish like you, with that power, waste it by spending time with these jerks?”

“I don't remember asking for your opinion,” Lucy said, no longer speaking with alpha command. “But they have their good points.”

“Like what?” He sounded like he was just humoring her.

Still, it was better than going through with his threat to shoot them. She nodded toward Rufus. “Rufus, here, is a whiz with cars. Any kind of machine, really. I met him when he was working at the garage my dad runs. Actually, I caught him trying to sneak in some hot properties after hours and make a buck on the side. So I decided I wanted the best car in town, and he owed me a favor. I don't care whether it's hot or not. Either way, he's the one who's going to help me get my hands on it.”

Mick cocked an eyebrow, but then nodded. “And this joe? If I'm reading the two of you right, you've been getting your hands on each other – and more than hands. Why haven't you turned him yet?”

“Again, no one asked for your suggestions about my life,” Lucy said, rolling her eyes. She hoped she was getting the right attitude of entitled annoyance. “I'll get to it. Wyatt's got to prove he's more than a pretty face, first.” She couldn't look at either of her friends' faces right now.

“Wyatt, is it?” Mick said, taking a step toward him. “You don't mind being tied to this skirt's apron strings?”

But of course, now she had to look at him. Wyatt laughed, wearing a convincingly disbelieving expression. “You seen her? Why would I mind?”

Mick snorted. “She's a looker, I'll give you that.” Then he looked back at Lucy. “But you know, sugar, if you turned him, there'd be one less all-wet human in the world and one more of us. To my mind, that'd be worth it, whether or not you two decide to go steady after.”

“I see what you mean,” Lucy told him. “Of course I've thought about it. And I may decide it's worth the risk of having him follow me around like a puppy even if we don't work out. Just hasn't happened yet.” Then she cleared her throat. “Anyway, I'm sorry we were on your turf. Would you mind letting us go?”

Mick was quiet for a minute. “Tell you what: because you're interesting, like I said, I won't hold your trespassing against you. And I guess I can't completely blame your boys here for following you. But-” he held up a hand, as Lucy started to thank him. “But I still don't like the idea of two non-weres coming around my place and getting away without any punishment. People might think I'm getting soft.”

“But they're with me,” Lucy said, trying to focus on indignation instead of the fear she was starting to feel full-force again. When people like this used words like “punishment,” that was never a good sign.

“I know that, sweetheart,” Mick said, with a cruel smile. “And I'm not planning to kill them, since you like them for whatever reason.”

“I'm not just going to let you hurt them, either,” Lucy snapped.

“Oh, of course not,” and Lucy had a sneaking suspicion she wasn't the only one there who wanted to wipe that condescending grin right off his face. Then he nodded to his goons, and they both raised their weapons.

“Stop!” Lucy shouted. All the Lycanth in the room froze. “I tried to be nice. We're leaving now, and you're all going to let us. You're also going to let Wyatt take your guns.” She looked at him.

Thankfully, though he was obviously not at ease, Wyatt didn't hesitate. He stepped forward and relieved the two henchmen of their guns, then paused. “What about this guy? I'm guessing he's not unarmed.” He raised one pilfered gun and aimed at Bennington's head.

“Yeah, you're right. Wyatt's going to search you, and you're going to let him.” She directed this at the very displeased gang leader.

Wyatt did so, removing two handguns from his jacket. “Thank you kindly. Now let's get the hell out of here.” He handed one of the guns to Rufus.

“Absolutely,” Rufus agreed, taking it gingerly.

“Like I said – we're going. Don't follow us.” Lucy made sure each of the three Lycanth men were still frozen. Then she spoke to the other two. “You guys leave first. I need to make sure this sticks.”

Wyatt frowned. “Lucy, we have their guns.”

“I know. I'll be right out, I promise.” She held his gaze. “Trust me.”

Reluctantly, he went out into the hallway with Rufus, but she could tell he wasn't going any further. So, after another injunction for Mick and his men to stay, she hurried after them. She had no idea how long the effects of her order would last. It wasn't an exact science at the best of times, and she still had so little practice.

Sure enough, as they reached the exit, Lucy heard sounds from the room they had just left. “They're coming!” She tried not to be worried – after all, Wyatt and Rufus had these guys' guns. But just as she was telling herself that, as they were all running, she heard and then turned to see Mick come out into the hallway, a knife in his hand. He looked furious. Before she could do anything more than cry out a warning, the gang leader threw it.

Lucy knew she didn't have time to panic, even though she was pretty sure she had heard the terrible sound of the knife hitting someone. So she yelled, “Stay there! Don't you or your people move another inch!” Then, when she was sure that had worked, she turned to look at her friends. Her heart seized, and she felt as if it had stopped along with the world around them when she saw the knife embedded in Wyatt's abdomen.

“Come on,” he grunted, Rufus' arm around his shoulder already. “We've gotta go.” Lucy couldn't speak, but she put her own arm around him, trying not to look at the blood, and the three of them staggered out.

No one said a word until they were several blocks away. By that time, Wyatt's eyes were glazed and his breath was coming in painful gasps. “Set... me down,” he panted. “Just for... a minute.”

“Wyatt,” said Lucy, once she and Rufus had lowered him onto the sidewalk as gently as they could, “I am so sorry.” She sniffed. She wanted to wipe the tears off her face but she was very conscious of Wyatt's blood on her hands. “I should have done more to stop them. I thought I had stopped them, but I –”

“No,” he rasped out. “Wasn't... you. Don't do... that.”

“I don't think I can just fake it 'til I make it with giving you stitches this time,” Rufus put in. “We need to find a doctor.”

Lucy swallowed. “As far as we know, Emma's still around. We saw she has at least one friend on this city's police force. I don't know for sure, but I'm guessing hospitals in the 30s were still reporting wounds like this to the police.”

“Lifeboat's... too far away,” Wyatt said. Was that blood on his mouth, too? Lucy was terrified that it was. “Might have... to risk it.”

There was a pause. They were still in a bad part of town, and it was getting late. They couldn't hang around here for long, although at least the time of the evening and their location had meant that no one had seen them yet. Just as Lucy was about to say something, though, their surroundings brightened fractionally and she felt a familiar tingle run down her spine. Of course, she had run through that checklist before the mission, so she was prepared: her Morfex patch was definitely still within its period of potency, and she had some Lupinox with her just in case. So the prickling sensation was all that had to happen, even though tonight was the full moon (and it must have just risen, for her to have felt it like that).

Yet another thought had struck her, now that she remembered the moon. It was impossible. Irresponsible. Maybe even selfish. She felt like she was somehow agreeing with Mick Bennington's loathsome ideas even just to think it. But she couldn't get it out of her head. “There's... one other option,” Lucy said, looking down at Wyatt's too-pale face. Her heart squeezed again. Could she even consider this, really? “No. Never mind. We should just look for a hospital.”

“What option?” Wyatt said.

“I... Well, tonight's the full moon,” she said, still feeling traitorous for even speaking those words. And yet, what if it was their best hope? Letting Wyatt die wasn't on the table. “And Lycanth heal fast, in wolf form.” She almost choked on the end of the sentence.

“Holy shit, Lucy,” Rufus said, when it clicked for him. His eyes were wide. “Are you serious?”

“I don't know,” she said, aware that her voice was shrill and probably louder than it should be. “That's why I said we should just look for a hospital.” She was also still crying, tears continuing to run down her face.

“Lucy,” Wyatt said then, and she had to look back down at him. “How... would it work?”

He was asking for her help. For him, she could at least answer the question. “Uh... we'd have to find somewhere we could be shut in. Um, the two of us, that is. Rufus would need to go somewhere else. I'd take my Lupinox, take off my patch. I'd transform, but I would remember what's going on. I...” her voice broke. She still couldn't actually imagine that next step.

“You'd turn me,” Wyatt said softly, and coughed. “Then... what?”

With an extreme effort, she swallowed the sob building in her throat. “Then you would transform. Immediately. You wouldn't have any memories of who you are, although you would recognize me at least somewhat. You... you would want to run, and run, and never stop, but I guess your injury would keep you pretty well contained. And I'd help with that, too.” She closed her eyes for a second. “And by morning, your injury wouldn't be life-threatening anymore. We could get to the Lifeboat and get out of here.”

Wyatt closed his eyes for several seconds, too, until she was briefly afraid he had passed out. But then he opened them. “Rufus... go look for a warehouse, or some place... where we can do this.”

“Wyatt,” Rufus said, his gaze going between the two of them, “are you sure?”

He nodded. “If you find a... hospital first, come tell... us. Take... the gun I gave you.”

“Okay.” Rufus hesitated for another few seconds, and then headed off.

Lucy knelt down next to Wyatt. She needed to say something. She had the feeling that events were running ahead of her, and they needed to stop somehow, or she needed to make him understand how serious it was at least, or... She didn't know what to do.

“Yes, you do,” Wyatt gasped, then, and she realized she must have said that last part out loud. “You... wouldn't have said anything... if you didn't know.” He reached out and took her hand.

“But I've never – you don't know what...” She stopped before she could say something stupid. Obviously the main thing he did understand, that they all understood, was that if they didn't do something now, Wyatt could die.

Somehow he still had the energy to squeeze her hand. For a while, he didn't speak, and his eyes were slipping shut more and more every time he blinked. His breathing was getting shallower.

“Don't fall asleep,” Lucy said. Her tears had slowed, though her anguish had not lessened. “I don't know if we can carry you.”

He snorted, but then his eyes met hers. “Lucy.”

“I'm here,” she said, squeezing his hand.

“Thank you.”

Her mouth fell open. “For what?”

“Everything,” he gasped. “Saving me.”

How could he be saying this, right now? “You don't owe me anything, Wyatt,” she managed, over the lump that had returned to block her throat.

“I do,” he insisted.

“Guys?” Rufus' voice cut in. “I think I found a place.” He stepped into view of the dim street light.

“No hospital?” Lucy asked, the adrenaline kicking up a notch.

Rufus shook his head. “So if we're doing this? We should go. We don't want Bennington or his guys to find us, especially now.”

Now that they were no doubt in wolf form, and out for more blood. Lucy gulped. They weren't in his territory anymore, she didn't think, but that didn't mean her team was safe.

“Yeah, let's go,” Wyatt grunted.

Lucy bent to help Rufus lift up their teammate. Wyatt groaned out loud as they stood, and there was way too much blood on him now. “Where are we going?” She devoutly hoped it was close.

There was a garage two blocks away, Rufus told them. He had already jimmied the lock, and there was no car inside being worked on. “I guess I can camp out in the office next door?”

“As long as there's a good lock between you and us,” said Lucy.

“I checked. It should be fine.”

Wyatt was all but unconscious by the time they got him inside the garage, set him down, and closed and bolted the outer door from the inside. “Okay, I – I have to do this now, or...” Lucy looked up at Rufus. Her friend. One of the people she cared about most in the world. If he didn't understand this, it would break her.

But he nodded. “I know. And I know we all wish there was some other way. But there isn't.”

“Yeah. You'd better go. Make sure that door is locked. Oh, and maybe you should close those curtains in the office, too. It's probably better not to... Well, it's probably better that Wyatt only see me tonight.” She put her hand on his shoulder for a moment.

Rufus gulped, and then nodded again. “Okay. You save him, Lucy.”

“I will,” she said. “Uh, do you still have that gun? In case Bennington's people do find us?”

He patted his jacket pocket. “Let's hope I don't need it.”

“Definitely.” As soon as Rufus had gone into the adjoining office, closed and locked the door, and closed the curtains, Lucy turned to where Wyatt lay. She bowed her head for one second, and then found her Lupinox and took one.

“Wyatt,” she said, coming closer. “Wyatt, can you hear me?”

His eyelids fluttered, but he didn't speak or move other than that.

“Wyatt, I just – I have to ask you one more time. I have to make sure. I can't do this unless I know you're sure.”

“Yes,” he said, opening his eyes. His voice was faint, but clear. “Do it.” Then his eyes closed again.

So, taking a deep breath and trying her best to just stop thinking about all the implications, Lucy carefully took off her clothes and folded them up, then removed her Morfex patch. It was only a few seconds later that the tingling sensation she'd felt before came back, and then the chill air of the garage on her skin was replaced by the heat and discomfort of a full moon change that she wasn't quite in control of.

But it was over quickly. And she was still completely in control of her own mind, so she approached Wyatt. That was when she realized that there was one key detail they hadn't discussed: whether Wyatt had a preference as to where she was going to do this. Though Lucy herself had little experience with this situation, she knew from what her mom had told her, what other Lycanth had said, that the scar from a bite that passed on the Lycanth virus never completely faded.

And now she couldn't ask Wyatt anything. Not only could she not speak, but he seemed to have passed out again. More importantly, though, he was still bleeding. Still _dying_ , if she didn't just do this. Pretending more resolution than she felt, Lucy pushed up the left sleeve of his shirt as well as she could. This would have to do. Then she bent down and bit him. At least she could do her best to make it gentle, even though she had to break the skin in order for this to work.

Wyatt groaned again, and Lucy sat back. It was done. There was no turning back now.

It was his scent that changed first. Within a minute of the deed, she could smell that there was another Lycanth here, right in front of her. Then Wyatt made another sound of pain, and his eyes opened. He didn't sit up, but he did turn to look at her, eyes wide.

There was fear there, which cut her to the quick. I'm sorry, she wanted to say again. All she could do was whimper, though.

He cried out again, louder this time, and then he did sit up. Pulling the knife out of his gut with a grunt, he let it drop to the ground with a clatter. “God.” That was all he said before taking off his jacket and then unbuttoning his ruined shirt and pulling it off.

Lucy stood up, whining again. The bleeding had already slowed, but she knew he had to be in agony. Both the wound and the transformation would be tremendously painful. So as torturous as this was for her to watch, she knew he had it worse by a long shot.

Wyatt dropped to his hands and knees, still partially dressed. He stared at her, swallowing convulsively. Lucy had time to hope there might be some mechanic's uniform in a closet somewhere around here before the change struck.

He screamed, and Lucy barked before she could stop herself, her ears flat against her head. Dark fur spread across his skin, and there was the sound of fabric tearing. The next scream became a howl, and then he had shaken off the remnants of his clothes.

But then he staggered, yelping. The wolf in front of her was obviously struggling to keep his feet, panicky and in pain. When he looked up and saw her, he whined. There was a little bit of recognition there in his face, but not much.

She came closer. She was his alpha, and he needed to remember that. He also needed to sit down – or preferably lie down, to give himself a chance to heal. So, after she'd sniffed his face and let him sniff hers, she shoved at his shoulder.

His response was to growl and try to back up. She could sense his confusion and the desire to run.

That was understandable. It wasn't acceptable, though. She pursued him again and once again shoved at him, trying to get him to sit or lie down. He had to rest, as hard as that would be for him now.

She anticipated his attempt to snap at her, and nipped at him before he could even manage. Then she growled and stared into his eyes. It was, ironically, harder to use the alpha ability in wolf form, but it could be done.

He sighed, and then his gaze fell and he whined. And then, finally, he scrambled into a crouch of submission.

Lucy licked his face, and then pushed against his shoulder again, gentler this time. When she sat in front of him, he blinked. Then he seemed to get it, and sat as well, with another sigh. Then Lucy lay down, her head still raised, and once more he copied her movements.

He was still tense, though. All his instincts would still be telling him to run, to attack anything he could find, to go until he dropped. Lucy herself didn't want to stay still, and that was having taken Lupinox. (Neither drug worked on a newly-turned Lycanth, or this whole thing would have been a lot less traumatic.)

He was staring at her now. His gaze still showed confusion, pain, and that hint of recognition. Whining, he shifted so that he was lying on his side. That was probably as comfortable as he was going to get for now.

He was also displaying trust, revealing his injury to her. She got up and came closer again. She might not be able to help him understand what was happening. But she could offer comfort, regardless. And so she licked his face again, before moving to clean his wound. Though it still looked bad, she was confident it was getting better already. She would do her part to keep him resting. When she was done, she went around to his other side so she could lie down next to his back. She made sure she was close enough to rest her head on top of his shoulders. He didn't seem to mind.

Sleep, she tried to tell him. Not that he could hear. For better or worse, this stage would be over soon.

 

That was what she'd thought, anyway. She knew it wasn't morning yet when a loud sound woke her. Wyatt hadn't stirred yet, but she raised her head and cocked an ear. That was when she noticed a scent to accompany the sound. It was a scent she recognized: the alpha from earlier, Mick, and his two packmates. They were outside the garage!

Lucy surged to her feet, growling. This was bad news. Wyatt was not going to be able to fight, but even worse than that was the fact that he would still want to. She wasn't sure she would be able to keep him down, keep him out of this.

Just as she was thinking this, there was another clang at the outside door, and Wyatt woke and lifted his own head up. He met her eyes, and then turned toward the door and growled. He must have caught the scent, too. But she put one paw on his shoulder, not leaning much weight on it, when he made to get up.

There was a bark outside then, and then a loud thud. It sounded like they were trying to force the door. Even without any Lupinox to allow them to keep a hold on their human minds, there was no reason to expect this pack wouldn't figure out how to get in.

Lucy gave up on any idea of staying quiet. Instead, she moved away from Wyatt and toward the office, barking the entire way. Rufus had to wake up. There was no way she and an injured Wyatt could fend off three furious Lycanth on a full moon night.

She was gratified to see the curtains of the window move. She stopped barking and then went up to the door, rearing up to scratch at it for good measure. Finally, there was a click and it opened a crack.

“Lucy?” Rufus was peering out. “What's going on?”

Lucy barked, softer this time, and then turned to stare pointedly at the outside door. At first, she was afraid he wouldn't be able to get it.

But then there was another loud crash. “What the hell was that?”

Wyatt growled again, from where he was still lying down over by the wall.

At least he hadn't tried to attack Rufus. Lucy moved to face the outer door. There was a loud, snarling bark from outside.

Rufus swore. “It's them, isn't it? Mick and his guys?”

Lucy craned her head back around so she could nod.

The office door closed for a moment, and then it opened more fully. Rufus stood in the doorway, the gun in his hand.

At that, Wyatt growled again, louder. And when Lucy looked toward him, his angry gaze was focused on Rufus. And now he was trying to stand up.

“Whoa, whoa,” Rufus said, having followed this as well. “Wyatt. Dude, I am not threatening Lucy. The gun is all for those guys out there.” He gestured with his empty hand toward the outer door.

Lucy had already gone over to him, standing so she could see both Wyatt and Rufus without too much maneuvering. She bent down to lick his face, trying to be reassuring.

He made an uncertain sound, now awkwardly lying on his front even though that had to hurt. But he licked her in return. Hopefully that was an acknowledgement that she wasn't worried about Rufus as a threat. Again, she stared into his eyes and did her best to communicate that he should not get up, that she didn't want him to.

Then, when he seemed to get it, she trotted back closer to Rufus. “This is like some kind of horror movie,” he muttered, as there was another crash against the door, followed by a scrabbling sound. “Except normally the potential victims can at least all talk to each other.”

Lucy sighed. He was right that it didn't help that she couldn't speak to him. Yet she couldn't have transformed back even if she wanted to. She'd taken off her Morfex patch and the moon was still up. And anyway, there was no way she would transform and leave Wyatt without someone with whom he had a prayer of communicating. Sure, she could hold a gun in human form. But Wyatt would panic without her in wolf form to keep him relatively calm. And then he would hurt himself even more. That was not going to happen. She wouldn't let it.

“You're going to have your hands full keeping Wyatt down, aren't you?” Rufus said then, unconsciously echoing her thoughts. Then he winced. “I mean, figuratively.”

Lucy rolled her eyes, but then nodded.

“Meaning I should try to get these guys out of here as soon as possible, so no one has to do any actual fighting,” Rufus said. “What if I shoot through the door right now?”

Lucy thought for a moment and then gave her best shrug. It might work. She doubted the other pack wouldn't recognize a gun shot when they heard it.

“But I probably shouldn't try to shoot through this thing,” he said, nodding toward the main metal, roll-up door of the garage. “With our luck, I'd end up hitting you or Wyatt.”

She winced.

Rufus stared at her, then shook his head. “No offense, but it's weird to see your expressions look so much the same even while you look so different.”

She wasn't offended. She'd never really had any non-Lycanth friends who knew both sides of her, so she'd never had anyone make that kind of remark before. She shrugged again.

“Anyway.” Rufus took a few steps closer to the door that was not made of metal, the one the Lycanth outside had been crashing into. Then he aimed and fired.

The sound was deafening inside the open garage. Lucy's ears went back, and when she looked, she saw that Wyatt's were, too. His suspicions of Rufus didn't seem to be quite gone, either.

More importantly, though, there was a loud yelp from outside. A hit. Seconds later, Lucy could smell blood.

“Sounds like I hit something. Someone,” Rufus said, glancing at her.

Lucy nodded again.

“So I guess we'll just wait and see if they leave?”

Again, she nodded.

“Okay.” He blew out a breath.

Her ears focused forward. There were a few sounds out there, still, but they didn't sound aggressive. In fact... She went closer to the door and listened hard. It sounded more like creatures moving away from them. There was some dragging, like someone limping. But they were leaving. Lucy took a deep breath and exhaled. Then she turned around to Rufus and opened her mouth in a canine smile.

“Are they going?”

She nodded, and her tail wagged. Then she went right up to him and licked the hand that wasn't still clutching the gun. If she were human right then, she would have been giving him a big hug.

He laughed, a little surprised. “You're welcome?”

Once more, she nodded, and then turned back to Wyatt. Now there was more confusion in his eyes, like he might be trying to figure out who Rufus was to them, but there was still suspicion there, too.

“Okay. Good night, again,” Rufus said, and disappeared back into the office. She was relieved to hear the lock click.

She rejoined Wyatt, who immediately licked her face more thoroughly than he had before. He whined faintly. It was all right now, she did her best to communicate, nuzzling and grooming him a little in response before lying back down where she'd been earlier. They were all okay.

~~~~~~

The pain in his stomach woke him. He opened his eyes. There was a comfortingly familiar scent near him – right next to him, in fact, but nothing else was recognizable. He whined. Something was very wrong about this. Why was he hurt? How had he gotten here?

The female next to him woke up then. She made a soft questioning sound, and then lifted her head from where it had been resting on him. Meeting his eyes, she licked his face and then stood up and stretched, shaking herself.

He watched her, and then something reminded him that this wasn't just a female, that he happened to know. She was his alpha, and she was very important to him besides that, too. How had he forgotten? This was all very strange and confusing. And when he tried to shift positions, to stand up, it hurt. He could do it, but it hurt.

His alpha came close, obviously concerned. She pushed at him, in the same gentle way as she had last night. Last night, before that other pack had... they had tried to come in after them. Had all of that been last night? Anyway, he recalled that she had wanted him to sit down. She had made that clear even while there was danger. It had been hard for him to realize it, then, but now he could figure out that she didn't want him to hurt himself more than he already was. So he sat, and then quickly lay back down because sitting wasn't actually better than standing.

His alpha made a satisfied sound, and then she turned and trotted toward a stack of cloth at the edge of the room. That was when she... she changed. She wasn't a wolf anymore. She was a human woman. But she still smelled the same as before – well, almost exactly the same. He whimpered, even more bewildered than he had after waking up.

She put on the clothes that had been on the ground, and then came over to him again. He didn't flinch, because it was her. But he didn't understand, either.

Now she was talking. Those were words she was saying. No, not just words. His name. She had said his name, several times. Wyatt. His name was Wyatt. And hers was Lucy.

“Do you understand?” she was saying, crouching down in front of him. “Wyatt, I need you to nod or something when you start understanding me. Okay?”

He nodded. Oh, God. He had forgotten almost everything. He swallowed, his ears flattening. He had actually heard about that being something that happened to a newly-turned Lycanth, but it was a whole different thing for it to have happened to him.

“Good,” Lucy was saying, with a big smile. “Now, let's get you back to your human form, okay?”

He nodded again. This was much more disorienting and humiliating than he had imagined. But Lucy was here. And it didn't seem like she'd let anything go wrong thus far. There was no reason for him to fear that she'd stop looking out for him now.

“All right. You're going to need to focus on yourself, your human self. Not just how you look, but how you feel and act, how the world is for you when you're human, if that makes sense. Can you do that?”

Wyatt tried, but nothing seemed to happen. And then he whined, which he guessed was involuntary. That didn't mean it wasn't still pretty embarrassing.

Lucy didn't make fun of him, though. “It sometimes takes a while to get it,” she said. “For me, it's like there's a moment where I can kind of just suddenly picture my human form really clearly, and that's the moment I can make the choice to transform.”

Wyatt tried again. He closed his eyes and cast his mind to how he had been throughout all of his life before this last twenty-four hours. It was still hard to put himself in that mental place. But suddenly he was seeing the image of Lucy's face in front of him, anguished and disbelieving, as he tried again to convince her that she wasn't somehow less than what he wanted. They would need to be able to talk some more, he knew. So he changed. It was definitely a bizarre feeling, for his whole body to shift around and shrink and rearrange itself, although at least this time the only pain involved came from his knife wound. Well, there was a pang in his left arm, too.

“Welcome back,” Lucy said softly. “How are you feeling?”

He cleared his throat. He was still lying on his side, except that now that he was in human form and naked it was a lot more awkward. “Uh. Fine, I guess. I mean, I will be.” Her eyes were searching his face, but she didn't seem thrown by his lack of clothing. Which made sense, he guessed. She had a lot more experience with all this.

“Good. Let me see if Rufus is awake. Or do you want me to look for clothes for you, first?” She stood up.

“Uh...” Trying to take his cue from her unconcerned attitude, he rolled stiffly into a seated position, although he couldn't help but keep his knees up in a strategic way. “I guess clothes sound good,” he admitted.

Again, she didn't laugh or act at all condescending. “Your shirt's still over there, but it's kind of a lost cause. I'll see what else I can find.”

He didn't speak. Instead, he just watched her as she walked over to the cabinets on the wall to their right, opposite the door. It seemed like his feelings should be complicated right now. After all, his life had just changed completely, and not in a completely positive way. Consulting that doctor Lucy knew about would have to happen soon. And he'd have to think about disclosing his new status to the Army. Plus, he was still wounded. They still had Rittenhouse to face, of course.

But right now, all he could think about was Lucy. She had kept those thugs from straight-up killing him and Rufus yesterday, when they'd stumbled onto Bennington's turf. And then she'd been bold enough to suggest this route for saving his life, even though he knew she had never wanted to turn him. Once that decision was made, though, she had been with him through it. She had taken care of him. She had kept him from hurting himself or Rufus last night. She was still taking care of him now. He didn't think it was any new instinctive Lycanth acknowledgement of her as his alpha that made him unable to keep his eyes off her.

“Here,” she said then, turning around with – were those overalls in her hands? She shrugged as she approached. “Yeah, I know, they're not great and I don't even know if they fit, but maybe you can put them over your ruined shirt?”

He cleared his throat again. “Sure.” He took the garments when she handed them to him. “Thanks.”

At that, her calm, almost cheerful demeanor dimmed. Still, she gave a nod. “You're welcome. I, uh, I'll go get Rufus.”

He made to stand up as she started toward the office. But he stopped almost immediately, barely holding back a cry. “Lucy?”

She turned. “What?”

He sighed. This, he thought, would probably have to be awkward, no matter how used to all this Lucy was. “Uh. Can you...”

But before he could even bring himself to ask, she was at his side again. “Oh my God, I'm sorry. I should have realized you'd need help. Here, maybe if you kind of scoot over closer to the wall, and then you can lean on me on one side, and the wall on the other? I'll bring the clothes over.”

Lacking any other option, Wyatt did as she suggested. And he was pretty sure he noticed a blush on her cheeks as she helped him stand, steadied him as he put the bloody shirt over his shoulders, and then supported him while he stepped into the overalls. But neither of them spoke.

At least, they didn't until he was dressed. “Your injury looks better. Still pretty bad, obviously, but better,” she said.

One side of his mouth lifted. “So you, uh, noticed that, did you?”

“Wyatt,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Yes, because I was worried about you.”

“I know,” he said. “And yes, you were right last night. I feel like I'll be able to walk to the Lifeboat. It won't be easy, but it'll be doable.”

“Good.” But her expression turned serious again quickly. “Anyway. I'll go get Rufus so we can get out of here.”

Apparently Rufus was up, since it was only a minute or two later that he was hurrying into the garage with Lucy. “You okay, man?” he asked, as soon as he was close enough.

Wyatt nodded. “Still pretty sore, but yeah, I'm okay. Um, sorry about last night. I don't remember very much, but I think I acted like I wanted to attack you?” He scratched the back of his head.

Rufus shook his head and gave a quick smile. “Don't worry about it. I'm glad you're doing better. Let's go home.”

“But you tell us if you need to stop,” Lucy put in. “We can take it slow.”

As much as Wyatt wanted to get home – or, well, back to the place that was currently a home – he couldn't argue there. “What time is it right now?”

Rufus pulled out his period-appropriate pocket watch. “It's 6:07.”

“Well, nobody's going to see the huge bloodstain on my clothes,” Wyatt said, gesturing to the very stylish overalls he was now wearing. “Should we have a cover story for why I need propping up, though?”

“You're hungover,” was Rufus' immediate response.

“I guess that would work,” he said.

That decided, Rufus and Lucy stepped into position to support him, and they made their way slowly to the door. Thankfully there weren't very many people out this early in this part of town. The few people they encountered did give their group odd looks, but mostly seemed not to care enough to ask. Lucy did give a charming smile and a, “My friend here had too much to drink last night. We're getting him home,” to the one person who seemed curious enough to need an explanation.

Finally, though, they made it out of town and to the lot where the Lifeboat waited. Getting up inside the door was quite frankly terrible, and Wyatt was amazed that he hadn't started bleeding again by the time they were all inside.

“Are you okay?” Lucy said, worry all over her face, while Rufus started it up.

“It hurts,” he admitted, still a little breathless. “But yeah, I think so.”

“You should probably transform again, once we're back,” she told him. “I mean, Agent Christopher should get you a doctor, too, but in the meantime...”

He nodded, and then let his head fall back against the seat. He had no doubt Lucy would be there with him, to talk him through anything he had questions about. And while that didn't answer all of the issues they would be dealing with as a team, it was enough for now.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, another chapter I already mostly had written.
> 
> Warning: there is Jessica angst here. But I promise it's going to at least be different than on the show? Heh.

~~~~~~

Lucy had never felt more keenly the lack of privacy in the bunker. It wasn't so much that she minded everyone else knowing what had happened on their trip to the 30s. That was pretty necessary, and she was glad the whole Time Team was in agreement about that.

But it just didn't feel very conducive to helping Wyatt convalesce. Sure, there was a room that served as their infirmary. Agent Christopher probably wouldn't have argued if Lucy had insisted they were taking Wyatt there before anything else happened. The main thing she and Wyatt needed, though, was privacy.

It was Rufus who got the ball rolling right away after they got back, to her surprise and gratitude. “Look, Agent Christopher, everyone, I know we need to debrief and everything. And we will. But Lucy and Wyatt... there's something they really need to do first, and it has to happen now.”

The look of complete bewilderment on the faces of Connor, Jiya, and Denise might have been funny under other circumstances. Lucy sighed. They'd lowered Wyatt gently into a chair as soon as they'd gotten out of the Lifeboat, but she was still close enough to him to know that he had just sighed, too. He spoke. “Rufus is right. The short version is that I was injured, obviously. It was serious. Could have killed me. And it was the full moon back then, so Lucy had to turn me so I could heal enough to even make it back to the Lifeboat.” There were three sharp gasps from their friends, but Wyatt continued. “So now I need to transform again, so I can keep healing.”

“And that needs to happen soon,” Lucy said, speaking up for the first time. “And I need to be there to help him.”

To her credit, Agent Christopher didn't waste time with questions. “All right. I won't stop you – but I'll also look into getting a doctor over here, for as soon as you're ready.”

“Thank you, ma'am,” said Wyatt.

“I'll just move my stuff out of our room,” said Rufus. “So you two can have it for as long as you need.”

“Thanks, Rufus,” said Lucy, managing a smile.

In short order, she and Wyatt were alone in the room that was technically his and Rufus'. Lucy had snagged another outfit to change into afterward, assuming that she would transform, too. “Okay,” she said, sitting down opposite him. This was undeniably more awkward than when the focus had been purely on saving Wyatt's life. “I guess I can talk you through the change the other way around.”

Wyatt nodded. “I guess that would be good. Although, I should probably...” He reached for the buckle on his overalls.

“Yeah.” She cleared her throat. “And if you want to sit down on the floor, I don't think these cots can handle a Lycanth in wolf form.” Seeing him struggle to his feet, she quickly stood, as well, so he could lean on her again. After he'd taken off the overalls, she helped ease him down to the floor. This time, she carefully kept her eyes on his face.

“So. It's a challenge, the first time you transform by choice.” She thought back to everything she'd read, and her own experiences. “It's still all about remembering how it feels to be in that form, but that can be hard when your only experience so far was so out of control.”

“Oh, uh, speaking of that,” Wyatt said, “do I still not get to take Lupinox? Would that still not work for me?”

She blinked. “You know, I'm not sure. It's so... weird, to have only one night of the full moon. Here we're still weeks away.”

Wyatt nodded. “So what's the risk of me taking it?”

“Other than it technically being illegal for me to share medication that was prescribed only for me?” Lucy raised her eyebrows.

He shrugged, a hint of that smirk of his making an appearance. “Yeah, other than that.”

She took a breath. “Well, Lupinox is distantly related to the antidepressant family. So doctors are pretty serious about people being under a physician's care when they take it.” Her doctor had said the possible side effects were very rare, but still grave. “And the dosage has to be specifically tailored to each patient.”

“Huh. Okay.”

“But I'll be here. Most likely, you'll recognize me even more than you did last night.” She wanted to kiss him right now, or hold him. Or both. But that was probably not the best idea at the moment. Even though... Her heart skipped a beat. Even though there was no barrier to them being together in every sense now. Just as quickly, though, she crushed that line of thought. That wasn't why she'd turned him. She shouldn't be thinking about her own gain when he was still seriously injured, anyway. She wasn't the spoiled Lycanth girl with a boy toy that she had been pretending to be, when they met Mick Bennington.

“I will?”

She looked over from where she had been staring at her hands. “Yeah. Your Lycanth instincts should be easier to control. They'll still be pretty intense, though.”

“I already noticed, after I, uh, changed back, that I could smell a lot of things I never could before.” He scratched the side of his face. “It's... mostly cool, but kind of overwhelming.”

She smiled more genuinely than she had in a while. “Yeah.” Then she sat up. “So. You want to try transforming?”

“I'll give it a shot,” he said. Then he closed his eyes. Nothing happened, and he opened them again. “You're right. This is harder.”

Lucy nodded. “For me, there's a kind of – I guess I'd call it a wildness, that I can feel all the time but it's especially noticeable in my wolf form.”

“Wildness, huh?” Wyatt smiled. “I never would have guessed.”

She scoffed. He was not allowed to be flirty while sitting there not wearing any clothes. “Focus, Wyatt. I'm trying to get you to be able to heal, here. So as I was saying, that's what I think about, when I transform.”

“All right, I'll try again.” He closed his eyes, and took several breaths. Suddenly, she heard the tell-tale rushing sound and saw dark fur spread over him. In just another second, he was sitting there in wolf form.

“You did it,” she said. “Good job.” She hadn't really spent the time to take in what his wolf form looked like, last night. Her Lycanth instincts didn't care that much about physical appearance, anyway. So she took the opportunity now. He was a little bigger than her wolf form, which made sense. His fur was maybe a shade lighter than hers, but not much. She didn't see any white patches, like the ones she had. His eyes, which were focused on hers... Now that was interesting. They were basically green, like every other Lycanth she'd ever met, but she could swear there were hints of blue in there, too.

“Okay. Um, I'll just take my Lupinox and then join you,” she told him, after a pause. Now she was the one who had to focus. She was supposed to be helping him through this.

Once they were both transformed, Lucy came to sit next to him. Wyatt nuzzled her, and it was clear that he had a good idea of who she was. That was good. He was making progress. She licked him and then lay down. She assumed it was still morning here, based on the light filtering in, but she also assumed that it wasn't just her who was still really tired. (Not that she could think of a time in recent memory that she hadn't been really tired, anyway.) Sleep would be the best way to let Wyatt heal.

He seemed to agree, since he lay down next to her. This time, he rested his head on top of her shoulders. Yet again, she had to force her thoughts away from how nice this felt. It wasn't about her feelings. Although, as she relaxed fully for the first time in a long time, she did let herself admit that, at that exact moment, things could be a lot worse.

~~~~~~

Wyatt was getting worried. Actually, he admitted to himself that he was long past worried. Now he was anxious and frustrated. Lucy had been nothing but attentive and helpful since they got back. In fact, she'd barely let him out of her sight. She'd answered all his questions about the practicalities of Lycanth life, as they occurred to him. And while he'd absolutely needed her experience and expertise for these first few days of adjusting to his new status, he was thrown by what seemed like the beginnings of a retreat in their relationship. Especially considering their sheer, constant physical proximity, it was maddening that the only time she had touched him was when they had both been in wolf form. Well, and when she'd been helping him stand or sit, before he'd healed enough to do those things on his own.

Given that she also brushed off every attempt of his to ask how she was doing, though, he was pretty sure he had an idea what was going on with her. The only reason he wasn't beside himself with worry was that he knew she had gone to her weekly video chat therapy session with Dr. Riley. So she'd talked to _someone_ , hopefully including some discussion of this latest development in her life. But she was still treating him like some kind of patient. No, that wasn't fair. She was still open about how much she cared about him. It was more like she was treating him like a close family member who was recovering from a serious injury.

The last straw came on the fourth night after his transformation. It was late. He had just sunk into an uneasy doze with Rufus fast asleep across from him. But a quiet knock at the door brought him right out of unconsciousness, and he quickly stood and went over to open it. It was Jiya. “What's wrong?” he whispered.

“It's Lucy,” said Jiya, gesturing for him to come out into the hall. When he had done so, closing the door behind them, she went on, “She's having a nightmare, I guess. Anyway, she doesn't sound happy and she keeps saying your name. I thought you'd probably have a better chance of helping than me.”

Wyatt's heart clenched. “Yeah, I'm coming.”

Lucy wasn't thrashing like she had been that night at his apartment, but she was whimpering and there were tears on her face. “Wyatt,” she gasped, seconds after he'd come in, “no. I'm... sorry.”

“Lucy,” he said in a low voice, “Hey. I'm right here. You don't need to apologize to me.”

“I didn't... I didn't want to...” she said, as if she hadn't heard him. “No!”

“Lucy,” he repeated. “Wake up. You're having a bad dream.” He kneeled down next to her cot. “Okay? You need to wake up.”

“Wyatt?” Her voice sounded disbelieving. Her eyes were still closed.

“I'm here,” he said again.

She sniffed. “I'm sorry.”

He looked up at the quiet click of the door closing. Jiya had apparently left them to it. He spared a minute to wonder if she had retreated to the couch, but then focused all his attention back on Lucy. “What are you sorry for, Lucy?”

“I didn't want...” she said again. Then suddenly her eyes opened. “Wyatt? What are you doing here?” She sat up. Then she brought up a hand to her face, wiping away the tears. “I – I woke you up?”

He got up from the floor to perch on the edge of her cot. “Well, it was technically Jiya. You were having a nightmare?”

Lucy's eyes widened, and she let out a sob. Her face crumpled. “You were dead,” she choked, “because I – I killed you.”

Thankfully, she showed no signs of being unwilling for him to gather her into his arms as she started to cry in earnest after that. He closed his eyes, a few tears of his own escaping. He'd had a few of those dreams, himself – of Jess dead at his hands, for years now, and more recently about Lucy. And he also knew (thanks to some Army-mandated therapy) that it was misplaced guilt in his subconscious, making itself known while he slept. “Lucy,” he said, once he had enough voice to speak, “I'm right here. You saved me. And you have nothing to feel guilty about.” He stroked his hands down her back.

She didn't answer right away, still crying too hard. But after a few minutes, she pulled away and stared down into her lap, breaths still jerky and loud. “I know, in my head I know, it wasn't... I had to do it to save you. I can't regret saving you.” Then she reached out for his left arm and ran her hand up until it reached the scar from where she'd bitten him. It was still red and pretty angry-looking. “But I did end what your life had been, up until that moment.” She still hadn't looked up at him. “That's over. You can never get it back. And that never would have happened... without me.”

Wyatt swallowed. Then he used the hand she wasn't touching to gently lift her chin. “I hate to tell you, Lucy, but the life I had before ended a while ago. That was right around the time I first came in to Mason Industries and learned I was supposed to travel through time while babysitting a couple of civilians.”

Lucy huffed. “Yeah, I guess. But –”

Wyatt cut in. “And I'm glad that life ended. My old life. The only reason I took this assignment in the first place was because it was dangerous. After Jessica died, I basically stopped caring.” He made sure she was still meeting his eyes when he added. “But not anymore.”

She got the message, he was sure. Her cheeks reddened slightly, and she said, “I get that. Without my pack, my family, it's been hard to figure out what I'm doing with my life. Except there's Rufus and Jiya and everyone, and that makes it easier to know, to have a purpose. And more importantly, there's you.” And then her eyes filled with tears again. “But every time I think about how you're Lycanth now, too, I'm so _happy_ for just a second, because now there's no more reason for us to, to be apart, and then I feel terrible because that makes it sound like I turned you for my own benefit and that makes me want to throw up, and I can't stop, it's like both of those feelings are fighting in my head and I don't know what to do!” Her gaze dropped to her lap again, and he could see a tremor run through her body.

“Well, I'm going to suggest you try not to throw up,” he said blandly. “It doesn't do my ego any favors to hear you connect being with me to getting nauseated.”

She scoffed again, swiping at her cheeks.

“But seriously, Lucy, you know yourself better than that.” He waited until she was looking at him. “You know you didn't suddenly decide you don't think turning someone – turning me – was a big deal.”

He could see her swallow. “I guess. I mean, I know?” Then she grimaced. “God, now I'm making you defend my own actions to me, when you're the one they affect the most. That's pretty screwed up.”

“Hey, I'm just talking you through it,” he said. “I don't need to defend anything.”

“No?” She looked both hopeful and agonized.

“No,” he said firmly. “You deserve to be happy, Lucy, and I'm going to keep saying it until you really believe me.” Then he brought his hands up to her face. “I'm also going to kiss you now.” And he did, and she sighed into his mouth and kissed him back, wrapping her hands around his face and neck.

“I want to,” she said, when they had to stop for air.

“Want to what?” Any thought of what they had been talking about was pretty far gone from his mind.

“Be happy. With you,” she told him, with a soft smile.

“Me, too,” he agreed. He rested his forehead against hers for a moment. Then a thought occurred to him, and he had to laugh.

She raised an eyebrow. “What's so funny?”

“Nothing. It's just that I don't know where Jiya is right now.”

“Oh my God, are you serious?” Lucy covered her face with her hands. “Poor Jiya.” She scooted toward the edge of the bed. “I'll go find her. Maybe we can all get some rest now.”

He caught her arm as she stood. “Fine, but I'm only agreeing because this damn bunker is really light on things like doors that lock from the inside.”

Her eyes lit up, and then she smiled again, more playful this time. “Can't argue with you there.”

Her expression was enough that he had to tug her down so he could kiss her again. She let out a faint squeak of surprise, but she obviously didn't actually mind. Giggling, now in his lap, she murmured, “Wyatt, I was going to go rescue Jiya from the couch or wherever she is.”

“I know,” he said. Her laugh was not making it easy for him to be willing to stop before locks on the doors became more of a necessity.

But after one more perfect kiss, she pulled away again and stood up. “We really can't leave Jiya hiding out somewhere.”

Wyatt came very close to saying something rude about leaving Jiya, but he caught himself. Lucy was right, of course. Besides, he owed Jiya for coming and getting him tonight. “All right. Let's find her.”

It turned out she was out on the couch, one lamp switched on and reading something. She jumped up as soon as she saw them. “You guys okay?”

“Fine,” said Lucy. “Sorry for waking you up, and then chasing you out of the room.”

“No, it's fine,” said Jiya, though her yawn made that less convincing. “I'm glad you're feeling better now.”

“Good night, Jiya,” Wyatt said. “'Night, Lucy.”

“Good night,” Lucy said, and gave him a lingering look.

As the two women headed back to their room, Wyatt heard Jiya say something in a low voice to Lucy. Lucy's response was a quiet laugh, which he thought might be a little bit embarrassed. But he couldn't make out any words she might have added. He'd have to ask her later.

~~~~~~

Somehow, after everything that had led them to this moment, in the poolhouse on Hedy Lamarr's estate, Lucy was still nervous. That probably didn't make sense. The two of them might not have really been dating, per se, but they were still a couple already. Weren't they? She had sung for him tonight, and then ended up singing to him, by the end of the song. Which, despite the fact that they had already both admitted their feelings for each other, had still felt like a big deal. And yet now, when it came right down to it, apparently neither Lucy's brain nor her heart was confident.

Thankfully, Wyatt had no such issue. There was no hesitation in his expression when he gently turned her toward him. She scanned his face – talk about “not hideous,” she thought – but when his eyes strayed to her lips, there was no chance she was going to keep slowing this down. They were here. Together. There was nothing left to keep them from being happy. She let him ease her into the first soft, sweet kiss of the evening. No, this was too good. Way too good. She definitely wasn't going to be an obstacle. The next one wasn't going to be gentle. She threw herself forward, kissing him with everything she had. And he was there to meet her.

 

Afterward, Lucy was reluctant allow much time at all to pass without touching him again. She rolled back toward him, and found that he must have been feeling the same. He was reaching for her already, even with eyelids beginning to close. And he was smiling as widely as she felt like she must be. “C'mere,” he said, tucking her close.

Lucy sighed. It was cliched, she guessed, but she felt happier than she ever remembered feeling. This was perfect. It was hard to imagine anything in the world being wrong, when she felt like this.

More ridiculous and impossible was that that pure happiness hadn't faded in the least when she woke up the next morning. If anything, it was stronger now. She ran a hand over Wyatt's face and down his arm. A thrill passed through her as she thought of the many, many mornings they could spend doing this now. The open road, he had said. Possibilities. He was the possibility she wanted, that much she knew. And he had all but told her in so many words last night by the pool that she was the one for him, too.

He woke up, then, and they traded a little more nonsense about HR violations and workplace rules – until Rufus walked in right as Wyatt had looked like he was interested in starting again. Because of course Rufus walked in. She would have felt sorry for him, if she weren't also annoyed to be interrupted again.

He exclaimed, and looked away, and mumbled, “I was looking for you both, and... Well, I guess you got that room. Uh. So. This is me leaving.”

“Busted,” she said, grinning over at Wyatt, as Rufus shut the door behind him.

Wyatt wasn't worried, though. “He'll be cool,” he said, and then his mouth was on hers again and she was only too happy to forget about Rufus, and anyone and anything else, and focus just on him.

It turned out her reluctance to be separated from Wyatt even to the smallest extent continued through the rest of their time in 1941. She was even more worried about him when the gunfire started, too. But they made it out safely (even if the poor security guard didn't). And they completed both their actual mission, and the side-mission for Flynn that no one apart from her really wanted to do.

Back in the bunker, she and Wyatt made a token effort to pretend that they were interested in a board game, but neither of them did much playing. They were too busy talking and laughing, telling each other stories. Or, well, she supposed _flirting_ might possibly be a more accurate description. Anyway, Rufus and Jiya were leaving them to it.

After a brief lull in their conversation, Wyatt picked up her hand and laced his fingers through hers. “Hey, so, here's a question that hopefully doesn't sound too dumb.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Okay, shoot.”

“I guess...” He gave a sort of shrug. “Is there anything I should know that's, uh, different, about being in a relationship as Lycanth?”

“Hmm.” She squeezed his hand. “Not really. I mean, we're already in the same pack. I guess it'll just make that bond stronger, if anything.” Then she winced a little. “Oh, I guess you should be prepared for maybe hearing other Lycanth refer to us as 'mates'. I mean, if we're ever interacting with other Lycanth.”

His eyes widened. “Wow.”

Then something occurred to her. “Not that there's anything... Well,” and she started to blush, “I promise there's no mating cycles or – or anything involved.”

Laughing, he nodded. “I kind of assumed you would have mentioned that earlier.”

“Yeah, I definitely would have,” she assured him. She pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Anyway, the point is, I don't think there should be anything too unexpected about it.” Growing up, most of her packmates had dated outside their pack, but she didn't remember anything weird about their relationships. And the few (mostly pretty short) relationships she'd had, also with Lycanth from other packs, had gone pretty much how other people's relationships did, from what she could tell. She assumed that just because she and Wyatt hadn't officially started being a couple until after they were already a pack, that wouldn't make much difference.

“Okay.” He brought her hand up and kissed it. “Good. Then if anything does happen that we weren't expecting, we'll just deal with it together.”

“Yep.” Maybe she could go online and look through the forums about living as Lycanth, at some point, just to make sure. Maybe she should show Wyatt. You tended to have to sign up with a lot of personal information in order to have access to those sites, but she'd found some of them worth it, over the years.

It was about an hour later that Agent Christopher came in to hear how the mission had gone. They were pleased to report their success. Wyatt was definitely less than pleased when Christopher announced that Flynn's jailbreak had been a success, too – and in fact, Flynn had accompanied her here.

Lucy ignored Flynn's crack about his new accommodations as she followed an irritated Wyatt out of the room. She didn't want Wyatt to be irritated. She wanted them both to bask in this happiness for as long as possible. And thankfully, it was easy enough to make him smile again.

And then he got a text. That was unusual in and of itself. No one was supposed to know the numbers for their current phones. Beyond that, though, Lucy could tell by the complete stillness that came over him after reading the text that this was something big. “What is it?” she asked, the giddiness of their conversation fading quickly.

He dragged his eyes away from his phone – and when they met hers, she was shocked by the utter pain and bewilderment there. “I – she... I just got a text from Jessica.”

Lucy felt her lungs stop working. “What?” she gasped, barely audible. That didn't make sense. Nothing about it made sense.

Wyatt gulped. “I don't know. Look.” He showed her the screen.

It wasn't like she'd thought he would lie about it. The message was pretty innocuous: apparently just a reminder that they were supposed to talk after she got off work. But it was from Jessica. So far as it seemed. “You... think it's really her?” Lucy asked. Her eyes were burning, and she blinked them furiously. Wyatt was the one who had just gotten a proverbial bomb dropped on him. He didn't need her to cry about it (even though her traitorous heart insisted that she had just been caught in the blast radius of this explosion, too).

He stared back down at the phone. “I don't know.” Then he seemed to shake himself out of it. “I know I have to find out, though.”

Lucy nodded. Of course he had to. It was only logical, and right. There was no way he'd be able to focus on anything else, until he knew what was going on here. “How?”

“I'll... call, I guess.” Then he met her eyes again, and they widened. “God, Lucy, I don't even know what to say.”

Her throat suddenly dry, she tried to smile. “Don't say anything. You don't have to. You have to find out what this means. I understand.” He didn't need to know how much it hurt to tell him that.

He shook his head. “Lucy. I'm not just – I can't just do that, I can't just pretend you're nothing, _we're_ nothing.”

The burning was back in her eyes, but Lucy refused to cry now. “But you can't pretend she's not your wife.” She forced herself to swallow back the sob building in her throat. “We're friends. Teammates. And we'll still be... that.” Oh, God, how could she possibly be saying goodbye to him _again_ , like this? How could this be happening?

Wyatt's mouth opened as if to argue, and then he just exhaled, running a hand over his face. When he looked at her again, there was anguish there. “This isn't what I wanted. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

There was a part of her that was gratified that he'd said that. But that part didn't matter now. “If it's really Jessica, then this is your second chance.” She steeled herself. “Go, before I...” Then she froze, as the obviously empty threat she had started to make reminded her of something she hadn't considered yet – and she didn't think Wyatt had, either. She put a hand to her mouth to muffle the cry that she couldn't keep from making.

“What?” He stepped closer.

Her legs felt numb all of a sudden. “Wyatt, I turned you. You're Lycanth. You – you can't be with your own wife, and it's all my fault.”

The renewed shock on his face told her she had been right that he hadn't thought about that issue. Then he shook his head again, raising his hands. “No. We're jumping ahead of ourselves. I don't even know if this is really her.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing his eyes for a second. “So what I'm going to do is contact her – whoever this is – and find out where we're supposed to meet. Then I guess I'll have to sneak out of here. And then I'll find out what the hell is going on.” He took her hand before she realized he was going to do it. “And Lucy, no matter what I find out, nothing here is your fault. You saved my life, and I don't regret it. If...” He stuttered to a halt briefly, but then continued resolutely. “If Jessica and I have to discuss what to do about me being Lycanth now, then we'll discuss it. But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Lucy managed to nod. It was true that there was no turn of events she could imagine where she would prefer that Wyatt had died of a knife wound instead of being turned. Just because she hadn't begun to fathom this particular turn of events didn't make that less true. She eased her hand out of Wyatt's. “Okay.”

He dropped his hand back to his side, looking so lost that she wanted to take him and hide him away, somehow, from all this. “Okay.” Then he sighed again. “I'd better go, before we attract Agent Christopher's attention and she makes sure I'm stuck here.”

She felt like she should wish him luck, like she had before his doomed trip to the 80s to save Jessica. But the words stuck in her throat. Maybe it was selfish, but she just couldn't do it. Instead, she said, “Be careful.”

“I will.”

“I'll, uh, go back to my room, I guess. So no one looks for me and notices you're gone.” Lucy clenched her fists to keep from reaching for him. All her instincts to keep him here, not to let him leave the pack (leave her) were at an all-time high. Instead, she allowed herself to meet his eyes one more time, and then she choked out a shaky goodbye and turned and left the hallway. He didn't say anything as she walked away. That was probably best.

She didn't cry as much as she was expecting, once she was sitting on her bed with the door closed. Sure, there were tears on her face, but she mostly felt totally numb. So much had already changed in the past twenty-four hours that this was just too much to absorb. Not to mention the fact that she didn't want to absorb it. It felt easier to pretend, for the time being, that there was nothing new to feel.

When the alarm sounded a few minutes after she'd gotten into her room, Lucy realized she was probably supposed to get up. It wasn't the signal for the Mothership having jumped, so it must be something else. Maybe Wyatt had set something off when he escaped. But even though she knew that not getting up to see what was happening would definitely clue the others in that she knew about Wyatt, she couldn't summon the effort.

Finally, a few more minutes later, there was a knock at the door and then it opened. “Lucy? Did you – hey, what's wrong?” It was Jiya.

Lucy turned, wiping her face. “What?”

“It is Wyatt, isn't it?” Jiya said, coming closer and sitting down across from her. “Where did he go? We know he must have broken out.”

“It's Jessica,” Lucy said.

Jiya frowned. “Wyatt's wife? Did something happen to her?”

Lucy choked. If Jiya didn't think she was dead... that meant it had to actually be her. And she was actually alive, and had never been murdered. Which was good news, of course. Making a sound that wasn't a laugh, she wiped away a few more tears. “Well, she's alive, for one thing.”

Pausing, Jiya blew out a breath. “Oh, shit. You mean... she wasn't? Is that what you're saying?”

Giving one nod, Lucy ran a hand through her hair. “She's... she had been dead for, what six years now? So he had to go to her. Obviously.”

“I don't understand. Why would that have changed?” Jiya was still looking at her closely, but she stood up. “We should check and see what we can find out.”

“Yeah.” Lucy guessed it was actually important to see about that. It still seemed to take a lot of effort to stand up, but she did. Following Jiya back to the control room, she tried to focus.

Only to have her fragile control shaken again by the news Rufus discovered after she informed the rest of them about this development: that it was Rittenhouse who went back in time to bring Jessica back. Lucy had to bite the inside of her lip hard to keep from saying something about how that proved that this version of the woman couldn't be trusted. Logically, she knew that wasn't necessarily true. And she didn't want to sound like a jealous shrew. But this news did make her even more worried about Wyatt.

So naturally that was when the Mothership jumped again. Lucy pulled herself together as best as she could. Salem, Massachusetts during the worst of the Witch Trials was not a period in which anyone could afford not focusing. Especially with Flynn as their temporary “soldier” while Wyatt wasn't available. She did actually trust that he wanted to work with them, but she also knew he would be unpredictable, volatile, and violent.

The vaguely good thing about how intense the trip was that it meant she didn't have much chance to think about anything except their next move. Not that being accused of witchcraft by her own mother was good in any shape or form. But even her mother apparently still had some kind of heart. She'd given Lucy a way to escape. Which was, well, not even close to enough to redeem her for all that she'd done before.

Anyway. Flynn had come through and made sure she and Rufus – and the other accused women, including Benjamin Franklin's mother – weren't killed. And Lucy didn't feel a bit guilty about saving the women whom history said should have hanged. If Rittenhouse was going to change history to move toward their terrifying dystopian goal, then adding in a little more light instead felt like the right thing to do. Rufus apparently didn't disagree (and she knew Flynn wouldn't).

Seeing Wyatt at the base of the ladder when they got back, ready to come up to help her, had been a brief return to rightness, to serenity – that had been ripped away when she looked up and saw a blonde woman staring at the Lifeboat like... well, like it had just appeared in front of her and she couldn't believe her eyes. Wyatt had brought Jessica here. To the bunker. Lucy's arm throbbed even harder, and she couldn't bring herself to shake off Flynn's support.

She barely paid attention while Jiya (the unofficial nurse of the bunker, Lucy guessed) worked on cleaning and stitching the knife wound. Agent Christopher was there at the beginning, too. The process of taking care of the wound hurt, yes, but it didn't seem to matter as much as the despair that had settled back over her. Not only was she supposed to deal with having the man she loved choose his wife over her, but now that woman was here. Which, since this was a top-secret location, probably meant she would have to stay here. Live here. In close quarters with them. No, probably more specifically in _Wyatt's_ quarters. Although they would have to figure out the Lycanth thing before...

Her stomach turned, and she barely managed to warn Jiya in time for her to bring the garbage can over, before she was throwing up every thing she had eaten or drunk in recent memory. Jiya was saying something about shock, and Lucy supposed that wasn't inaccurate. But though she accepted some water afterward, she could not imagine following her friend's advice to try to eat something soon. She just wanted... she needed to rest. To sleep, and try to forget for a little while.

With that in mind, she sat and accepted the pain pills and antibiotics Jiya gave her, as well. Then she stood carefully. Wyatt was close. She could tell even without having seen him yet. And so was Jessica. She hoped neither of them would decide this was a good time for introductions. Because as much as Lucy wanted Wyatt to be happy, and couldn't blame Jessica for existing, she did not have it in her to be pleasant, or possibly even polite, at the moment.

Thankfully, she didn't end up having to face either of them. Instead, she went straight back to her room and closed the door behind her. Then she sat down heavily on her bed. If she hadn't just been told not to get the bandage over her stitches wet, she might have summoned up the energy to go take a quick shower. Instead, she thought of another option. As quickly as she could without straining her arm, she stripped, including her Morfex patch. Then she pulled the blanket off the bed, wrapped herself in it, and transformed underneath the bed.

It didn't solve anything. All her problems still existed. But her mental and emotional turmoil eased slightly, simply because her wolf form didn't care to think in quite that much detail about abstract issues. And the pain pills were starting to take effect, so that made it easier to close her eyes and drift off.

She had no idea how much time had passed when there was a knock at the door, rousing her from her dreamless sleep. “Lucy?”

It was Jiya's voice. Not that she was currently able to answer. In fact, it was probably better to pretend to still be asleep. Jiya hadn't even seen her wolf form before. It would be awkward, but if Lucy were asleep, the awkwardness would be minor. She kept her eyes closed and didn't move.

“Lucy? If you're sleeping that's fine,” Jiya said quietly, opening the door. “I'm just coming in to change for – Lucy?” There was a pause. “Are you in here?” Then Lucy heard her sharp intake of breath. “Oh. Um, okay.”

Belatedly, it occurred to Lucy that she hadn't taken Lupinox. Also, Jiya might feel less than comfortable sleeping next to a Lycanth in wolf form. But she was so tired. She didn't want to move. So she didn't, and before she could find out what Jiya might decide to do, she was asleep again.

And the next time she woke up, she was pretty sure it was morning. Before doing anything more than opening her eyes, Lucy scented the air. Jiya must have either not slept here last night, or already gotten up. She was alone in the room. Her arm hurt. It was no doubt time for another dose of pain pills. Maybe past time. She didn't know how long she'd been asleep, and couldn't remember how often she was supposed to take them, anyway.

As it turned out, trying to stand up on four legs when her left shoulder was injured was very difficult. Almost impossible. Lucy was panting in exertion by the time she'd gotten herself out from under the bed and in a position to transform again. Naturally, once she was back in human form, her arm felt even worse. She wanted to go take her pain pills immediately. But she was pretty sure she remembered Jiya saying she should have food in her stomach to avoid risking nausea. She already felt pretty out of it. No use making things worse.

So she replaced her Morfex patch, struggled into some loose-fitting clothes, and went out into the hall.

~~~~~~

“How's Lucy?” Wyatt asked Jiya. He'd seen her go into their room to check, and come back out not long after. That had been a little while ago. Jessica's first dinner in the bunker hadn't seemed like a great time for him to get more details, apart from Jiya's quick report that she was sleeping. But now Jess had said she needed to head to bed early. So Wyatt thought he'd take this chance.

Jiya raised her eyebrows. “I don't think she's moved since she went to sleep. I looked in again a minute ago.” She paused, then went on. “Look, maybe it doesn't mean anything more than that she was hurt and she wanted to heal quicker, but she fell asleep in wolf form.”

And she'd been asleep for hours like that, without even getting up to have dinner. Wyatt did not like the sound of that. “Oh. Well, yeah, it's probably just the quicker healing,” he finally said, although he didn't think he had sold it that well. He was thinking back to his ill-fated trip to save Jessica, and how Lucy had run away, spent time in her wolf form, and gotten hurt then, too. God, he hadn't even had the chance to ask her, yet, before Jessica had come back, how long she'd had feelings for him – and he sure wasn't going to ask her now. The point was, now he couldn't help but connect the two events.

“Uh huh,” said Jiya, eyebrows still raised. Then she sighed, and left him with Rufus. The two men were supposed to be washing the dinner dishes.

“I told her about Hollywood,” Rufus announced, as he went toward the sink and started to pre-rinse the stack of dirty plates and utensils there. “I mean, she totally gets that you both thought Jessica was dead. And I do, too. I mean, I thought that, too.”

“So?” Wyatt said, when he paused. “Seriously. You have something else to tell me?” He tried to keep the irritation out of his voice.

“Like I said, I'm not judging you.” He held out a soapy plate toward Wyatt. “And I don't have any great advice, either. I don't know what I'd do if I were in your shoes.”

Wyatt automatically took the plate and rinsed it off. “Okay.” He still definitely looked like he wanted to say something.

“I don't know Jessica, either. Obviously I get that she's your wife.” He handed him the next dish. “But Lucy's one of my best friends, and I just...” He trailed off. “Dude, we all know what she's been through already. And I hope you know that she would cut off her own limb if she thought it would help you or make you happy.”

Wyatt's throat closed. He did know that. Well, maybe he hadn't let himself think it in so many words, but he couldn't pretend to be surprised by the thought. He couldn't think of a single thing to say in response. They finished washing the dishes in silence.

But Rufus' words wouldn't leave him alone. He didn't sleep much that night. And his heart sank even further when he got up at six to the news that Lucy had apparently woken just about a half hour ago, transformed so she could get her pain meds, and then been forced to admit she felt feverish. Then Jiya had grabbed the thermometer to confirm that she did. So now, when he peered into their shared room, he saw that she was asleep again (in human form this time). She was pale, and Jiya was arranging a cold cloth on her forehead.

He let out a shaky breath. It wasn't long ago at all that he would have wanted to tell Jiya he could take over. He still wanted that, if he was honest with himself. Since he couldn't, though, he cleared his throat and asked, “How's she doing?” And he didn't enter the room. That seemed safest.

Jiya turned. “Her temperature isn't getting any higher, at least.”

Before he could say anything else, Lucy made a faint sound. Her eyes didn't open. Then she whispered, “Wyatt?”

He swallowed. “I'm here.”

She sighed, and didn't say anything else.

Jiya's eyes were wide. After a minute or so, she shook her head and broke the silence. “That's the most alert she's seemed since she went back to bed.”

As his continually rotten luck would have it, the Mothership jumped a few minutes later. Lucy was in no position to come - she wasn't even conscious. That didn't mean he felt good about leaving her, though. And he definitely didn't feel good about taking Flynn, instead.

He knew the mission would have gone better if she'd been able to come. There was no question. She would not have been satisfied with just saving young JFK's life – by bringing him to the present. (And she wouldn't have been pleased with the idea of leaving Flynn behind, either.)

But the three of them had done what they could. And now JFK was a guest of the bunker. Wyatt was more relieved than he had any right to be to see Lucy up and on her feet – and even feeling enough like herself to chew them out for bringing the future president here. 

When he tried to joke with her about Kennedy, though, Lucy was not having any of it. Oh, she responded to the comment with a would-be normal piece of historical fact, but he would have had to be pretty dense not to catch the pointed barb about _already being married_. Worse, though, her expression was cold and guarded. He would have preferred if she was angry.

“Look, I – I know this isn't ideal,” he tried to say, wincing inwardly even as he spoke the words. “but I –”

“Not ideal?” Lucy cut in immediately. Now she was mad. “ _Not ideal?_ Wyatt, did you think for even one second about what it would be like, before you decided to bring her here?”

“There you are,” Jessica said at that moment. Then she cleared her throat, looking between the two of them. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No,” he said quickly.

Lucy managed to give him one more look, this time with an expression he couldn't read. “I'm just going to see if John needs anything to eat.”

Jessica watched her go. “She seems better.”

“Yeah,” he said, sighing.

“I talked to her a little this morning, before you got back,” she said. “She was still feeling pretty bad, I think. But I like her.”

Wyatt felt his eyebrows go up, and tried not to overreact. He couldn't help feeling both that he had missed out on something that had no doubt been worth seeing, and that he was glad that he hadn't been forced to be there for it. “Uh, yeah. I mean, that's good.” God, he sounded like an idiot. What was he even doing?

She rolled her eyes, but at least she didn't seem too annoyed. “Yeah I thought was a good thing, too, considering none of these people know me and I get to live with them now, anyway.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I should maybe have taken a few seconds to think about that kind of thing before I dragged you here, huh?” She couldn't have heard Lucy's complaint about that issue, could she? She wouldn't have just let their obvious argument go, if she had.

“Maybe,” Jessica said, the irony heavy in her voice. But then she smiled. “Not that I don't appreciate this new version of you where you actually want to tell me things. Because I do.”

It was automatic, the way he smiled back. “Glad to hear that.” And he was. Although it was hard to be fully glad, every time he thought about Lucy. Which was a lot. She had told him to pursue his second chance, and he wanted to do that... but he didn't want to hurt Lucy.

“What is that?” Jess said softly, breaking into his thoughts. She was closer to him now, watching him.

“What's what?”

“Every time you look at me, it's like you're both happy – happier than you've been to see me in a while, by the way, or at least that's what I remember – and sad at the same time,” she said.

He looked down at the wedding ring on his left hand, and then back at her face. “Well, I wasn't joking when I told you that to me, you're back from the dead.” Part of his mind – a part whose voice sounded strikingly like a certain historian – immediately called him out on his cowardice. That was not the real issue here, even if it should have been.

She gave a slow nod. “Oh, I know. Crazy as it is, I don't believe you'd lie about that. And besides, JFK is here now, right? So I can't even pretend I don't believe your whole story.”

He took a deep breath. “There is more to it. That whole story.”

“Of course there is,” said Jess. “I wouldn't expect anything else, if you've had six years without me.”

But before he could decide which of the very vital facts he needed to share first, they both turned at the sound of Lucy's urgent call. It turned out that their newest guest's scrawniness had helped him escape from the bunker. And now he was outside, in 2018. With Rittenhouse on the lookout for him, no doubt. Telling Jessica about Lucy, or about him being Lycanth, would have to wait.

~~~~~~

Lucy couldn't decide if insisting that she would go along with Wyatt and Jessica to track down Kennedy actually did make sense, or if it was an exercise in some sort of combination of territorialism and masochism. She was contributing to the search – she knew that much. And the thing was, she liked Jessica. It wasn't surprising that Wyatt would have been drawn to someone who was kind, smart, and funny as she was, not to mention beautiful.

But the moments where she felt like a third wheel were like a slap to the face. It was probably ridiculous that she was so taken aback by learning that Wyatt could surf. Well, of course, it was more Wyatt's expression as he talked about her never leaving his side, and how Jessica was looking at him in some kind of happy amazement. Was it because she couldn't believe he remembered? And why would it be surprising that Wyatt would remember something like that? And why, _God_ why, did the idea of Jessica's surprise bother her so much?

When Emma showed up in John's room, Lucy seized the opportunity to spend some of her pent-up tension. She was not ashamed that it felt good to hit Emma with all she could muster, even though that wasn't as much as it could have been because of her injured arm.

Naturally, that backfired. Emma overpowered her and held her at knifepoint. And then she started to goad Wyatt as he raised his gun on her. “I wouldn't do that if I were you,” she said. “Unless her life means less to you now that your wife's back.”

Lucy didn't have the option to look over at Jessica, even if she'd wanted to. “Do it,” she said. She trusted that he could take Emma out. Hell, he'd shot Flynn way back at the Hindenburg, even though she'd been terrified that he could miss.

“Now, wait,” Emma said then, tightening her grip so that it just so happened to dig into her knife wound. “I cannot believe I missed this until right now. You've been turned, Master Sergeant. When did this happen? It must have been recent. I know you weren't Lycanth when your pal Wendell saved you in South Carolina.”

Jessica made a faint sound, like a cross between a gasp and a sob.

“That's none of your business,” Wyatt growled, adjusting his grip.

Emma laughed, her voice gleeful. “This couldn't have been more perfect even if I had known. She turns you so you can be together, and then the wife comes back?”

“Shoot her,” Lucy said, even more grateful that she couldn't see Jessica at the moment. She remembered her alpha ability, but it was difficult to concentrate with the newly-awakened throbbing of her arm and the knife point at her throat, much less the emotional upheaval of Emma's comments. “She's their only pilot.”

Instead, the standoff continued for another tense minute. And then Lucy felt Emma shift her own grip, and had only a few seconds to try to get her feet under herself before the other woman was shoving her toward Wyatt. She almost collapsed, anyway, but he caught her, of course.

“Lucy! Lucy, are you all right?”

She managed to nod, even though her arm hurt more than it had since the actual stabbing, and the feel of his arms on her was both helping and making everything worse. “Go. Go!” she said, when she had the breath to speak.

Now there was a conversation that had to happen as soon as possible. But there just wasn't time. Wyatt was accosted by hospital security as he chased after Emma. Jessica looked like she was just about done with the whole thing, for which Lucy could hardly blame her. Instead of being able to spend any time trying to make this less crazy for her, though, Lucy found Wyatt his paperclip so he could escape. He was led away, but she wasn't worried about that.

“A paperclip,” Jessica was saying flatly, as she followed Lucy out the front entrance.

“We've done this before,” Lucy said. She put a hand to her shoulder. “Wyatt will be out in no time.”

“Hey,” the woman said, after a pause. “If your arm hurts, don't you want to get it looked at while you're here?”

“I'll live,” Lucy said. “And like I said, Wyatt will be here soon, and we need to keep looking for Kennedy.”

“Lucy.” Now her voice was serious enough that Lucy had to turn to face her. She sighed. “God, I don't even know where to start. I know that woman's evil, but I don't think she was making up everything she said, back there. Is – is Wyatt a Lycanth?”

Lucy gulped. “I don't think I should talk about this without him here.” At Jessica's less than impressed expression, she let out her own sigh. “Fine. Yes, he is. And yes, I turned him, but it was to save his life. He was dying, and...” She had to close her eyes for a moment. “And it was the full moon, and Lycanth in wolf form heal quickly.”

Her eyes were huge. “Oh.”

Lucy wanted to apologize, but she wasn't sorry Wyatt was alive, and she couldn't imagine apologizing for making it more difficult for Jessica to have sex with her husband would be anything but excruciating for both of them. In fact, it made her queasy just to think about it.

“All right, I guess I get that,” Jessica said. “But that's not the whole story.” She shook her head. “I think he was even trying to warn me about that, earlier today. Then I saw how he looked at you. Doesn't take a professor to figure it out.”

Lucy opened her mouth to say something, to explain. She really didn't want this all to happen without Wyatt around. It wasn't fair to him, for one thing.

But Jessica held up a hand. “No, I get that, too. He thought I was dead and it's not like he was faithful to me before. I don't know why he'd be faithful to me now.”

Somehow Lucy kept herself from exclaiming at that. There was no version of Wyatt who was a cheater. She refused to believe that.

Jessica still wasn't done. “Look, this has been fun. And insane.” She went on to say that she had been ready to divorce Wyatt, and he had asked her for another chance. “But now I'm thinking, he was right to ask. It's just, I don't think I'm the one he should be getting that chance with. Tell him I said bye.”

For one glorious second, Lucy did nothing but watch, her heart lifting. Jessica was leaving, on her own. Through nothing either Lucy or Wyatt had done – or well, nothing they had done on purpose. But then Lucy's conscience brought her back down to Earth. There was no way she could let this happen. It would destroy Wyatt all over again. “Wait. Jessica, wait.”

The woman finally stopped, and turned back. Lucy had the distinct feeling of something vital breaking as she tried to explain what Jessica had meant to Wyatt, the Wyatt she knew. She ignored the sensation as best as she could. Jessica had to understand. Her decision had to be informed, at least, and she doubted Wyatt would have led off with the story of trying to send her a telegram from the past, or of how he was court-martialed for stealing the Lifeboat to save her.

Of course that was when Wyatt drove up, ready to get going again. “Let's go.”

“What?” Jessica looked between her husband and Lucy. “How?”

Lucy cracked a faint smile, though that expression felt like it didn't belong on her face. “I told you we've been doing this a while.” She took a breath, which was oddly hard to do. “You in?”

Jessica paused, but nodded.

And Lucy managed to not be crying as she climbed into the back seat. Saving JFK. That's what they were doing. She wasn't going to go home and give up on him now. It wasn't his fault he'd been shoved headfirst into the madness that made up the Time Team's lives.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to have a few episodes of canon to work with, when possible.
> 
> (Speaking of more episodes, could NBC just RENEW already???)

~~~~~~

Wyatt could feel his palms sweating when his wife told him they needed to talk, once he got back from taking Kennedy back to the life he was supposed to live. He knew this conversation was necessary. There was no putting it off any longer. But he was absolutely gobsmacked when Jessica started it off by saying that Lucy had explained how he came to be Lycanth – and what was more, she'd urged her to give him that second chance.

“Lucy said that?” Wyatt said, knowing he must look as stunned as he felt.

“She said you never stopped loving me, even while you thought I was gone.” Her eyes were soft.

His heart felt like it was going to stop. This was too much. How was he supposed to deal with this? He sat down on the bed quickly, his legs suddenly unable to hold him up. This was supposed to be everything he ever wanted. Instead, all he could think of was Rufus' words from not even twenty-four hours ago, about how Lucy would cut off a limb for him if she thought it would make him happy. He rubbed his hands over his face.

“So I want to give you that chance,” Jessica was saying, voice gentle and sweet.

“Yeah?” he asked, looking up at her. God, how could he not jump at this? She was _here_ , and she was his wife, and she wanted to make this work.

“Yeah,” said Jess. She put a hand out to his face.

Wyatt froze, then tried to relax into the touch even though it reminded him so powerfully of Lucy. He managed to clear his throat. “I know this has been crazy for you.”

She stroked his face and then let her hand drop. “No kidding. But it had to have been hard for you, too. So let's figure it out together, right?”

He took that hand in his. “Right.” Was it right? Didn't it _have_ to be right? Was there another move here, that didn't involve breaking the heart of a woman he loved? He couldn't see one. So he would have to try to only see Jess. Even though there was a loud voice in his head warning him how impossible that was going to be.

Jess' smile turned serious. “So, uh, I don't know much about – about Lycanth. But I'm willing to learn.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Lucy was the one who knew about this. He felt like a fraud even to think of teaching someone about Lycanth or being Lycanth. “Then I guess the first thing you need to know is that, uh, there are ways to make the chances of transmitting the virus very low.”

She nodded. “Good to know.”

He could do this. This was what he had to do.

~~~~~~

She couldn't do this. She had to, but she couldn't. She knew her heart was broken, so why did it have to feel like it was still breaking, all the time? She had decided that she had to avoid him, for her own sanity. But the feasibility of that endeavor was... not high. As she was already only too aware.

Still, did she really have to literally run into him, after crying through her shower and just barely having gotten herself under control? When they put out their arms to steady each other, Lucy's breath caught and she thought she might either scream or grab him and kiss that unforgivably calm expression off his face. She pulled away as quickly as she could and tried to flee to her bedroom.

“Lucy.” She stopped when he spoke. She couldn't ignore him. “Thank you.”

Doing her best to keep her face blank, she turned. “For what?”

He swallowed. At least he didn't look quite so calm anymore. “Jessica told me that you convinced her. She's giving me a second chance.”

Lucy nodded. “You... your history together is special. You deserve to finally have that, to be happy together.”

But he blew out a breath and frowned. “Lucy, I'm not – I...” Then he started again. “I don't know if I can be. Happy with her, that is. I already told you I wanted to be happy with you.”

If she had wanted to scream before, that was nothing to this. “What are you saying?” she whispered. Her eyes burned, and it felt hard to breathe, which was a sensation she was almost used to by now.

“I'm saying... I don't know if this will work. I need to try, and I – I know I owe it to you that I even _can_ try, and that's just... I don't even know how to deal with that.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Hell, I don't even know if I should be saying this at all, but I couldn't let you think I just forgot about what we said before.”

Lucy was shaking now. Any relaxing benefit of the shower was completely gone. “And how am I supposed to respond, Wyatt?”

“No, you're not _supposed_ to do anything,” he said, frustrated. “I'm sorry.”

She closed her eyes for a moment. “I don't blame you for wanting to be with your wife. But you can't do this to me. You can't.” She took a few steps backward.

“I'm sorry,” he said again, bowing his head. “I – you're right. God, this shouldn't be like this.”

The words hung in the air for a moment. Lucy realized the tears that had been threatening were now flowing again. It was both comforting that she wasn't as alone in this as she'd feared, and devastating that he was in pain, too. “But it is,” was what she finally said, her voice weak. Then she straightened, and wiped her face, clearing her throat. “And you can't hold me in one hand and her in the other. That's not fair to anyone.”

He paled. “That's not what I'm doing. I swear, Lucy, I'm trying to figure this out.” He moved toward her and reached out a hand.

She leapt backward, almost stumbling right into the wall. “Don't touch me. _Please_.”

Wyatt froze. His eyes widened, and she was shocked by the hurt there. “Lucy. What...?”

Breathing heavily, Lucy suddenly realized she had just used her alpha ability. On him. As if he was a threat. She let out a cry, and then whirled around and escaped to her bedroom.

Slamming the door, she flung herself down on her bed and sobbed. That had gone even worse than she had imagined it could. How could she have ordered him away with her alpha ability? No matter how agonizing this whole situation was, she knew he wasn't a threat. He could never be a danger to her. What the hell had happened?

When the first burst of emotions had passed, though she was still deeply upset with herself and bewildered, Lucy allowed herself to be angry with Wyatt, too. Even knowing that he was also struggling with this situation, she couldn't believe he thought it was okay to thank her for his second chance and then tell her he _might_ choose her over his wife, after all.

She was glad it was late enough by now that she wouldn't be expected to be sociable for the rest of the evening. Not that she felt like she'd be able to sleep so early, either. Sighing, she changed out of her robe and into comfortable clothes. Maybe in a little while, she could sneak out without attracting anyone else's attention and do some research. Or maybe just zone out in front of the television, as long as Wyatt wasn't there.

To her surprise, a while later when she had chosen a movie to watch by herself, she was joined by Flynn. Even more surprising, he didn't speak. All he did was hand her a beer as he got one for himself. Then he sat down next to her on the couch and proceeded to watch with her.

“You seen this before?” he asked, about ten minutes after he'd joined her.

She murmured that she had. He didn't say anything else for another several minutes, past the time when it would have made sense for her to ask in turn if he had seen it. She took a long swallow from her bottle. “It's supposed to be relaxing, to watch an old favorite again. I read that somewhere. But it's not working quite as well this time.”

All he did was hum an acknowledgement. It was strange, how comfortable he seemed. Not just in the bunker, which she assumed was because it had to be better than solitary confinement. No, he specifically seemed comfortable near her. She imagined that if she asked about it, he'd have some reasoning connected back to that journal he insisted she gave him. In the future. Somehow.

It was too complex to try to figure out at that moment. And she found that she didn't mind his company. He didn't ask anything of her or even ask how she was doing. Maybe he needed the silent companionship just as much as she did.

In any case, when the movie was over, she turned to look at him. “Thanks for the beer.”

He smiled faintly. “You're welcome.”

Then she stood. She felt fractionally better after the distraction of the movie, though only a tiny fraction. The idea of trying to sleep was still not appealing. “Good night.”

“Good night, Lucy,” he said. Before she had left the room, intending to look for a tablet to pass some more time doing research, he added, “You're stronger than you know.”

She stopped, looking back at him. “What?”

“You heard me. I just don't want you to forget that fact.” Then he stood up, too, and disappeared toward his own room.

She stayed there, baffled and taken aback, for a full minute. Then she shook her head and went looking for that tablet. Again, this was too confusing to try to solve right now.

She ended up taking the tablet back to the couch. For lack of any other goal, she decided to log on to one of the Lycanth life forums. It had been a while. Wyatt would probably still need to know about these boards, even though... Well. It would still be good for her to have looked around them again before showing him.

Scrolling through the conversation topics, Lucy saw “Your first transformation” and went to click on it, just to see if she'd missed anything Wyatt ought to know. But then another one caught her eye. The title was “Starting a relationship within your own pack – a warning!”

Her heart rate speeding up, Lucy clicked. The poster who started the thread began with, “There's a reason your mom always told you dating in your own pack was a bad idea.” The woman continued that she and a packmate had grown to be interested in each other romantically, after having been in the same pack since they were children. They had started to date (without discussing it with anyone else in the pack first). “At first it was fine,” the woman wrote. “We had a great time. We already knew we had plenty in common and that we liked spending time together. But sex added a whole new level we didn't know to expect. It made us even closer, which was great. We were having even more fun. Nothing weird about that.

“But then he started to get extra clingy. And that turned into possessiveness and paranoid jealousy. Just to be clear, I think those traits were always there for him. I'm not saying this was because of our relationship. What I do think happened was that, when I eventually had to break it off with him, things got really messy.

No one takes that kind of thing well. But I thought it was over, at least. Since we were still in the same pack, though, we had to be in the same place pretty often. And look, I've gone through breakups before, and even seen the guy again afterward, and I've _never_ felt the way I felt the first time we met up after ending things. It was like I hated his guts, _and_ like he was my one true love who got away, and also just a guy who I used to like until I found out more about him. I wanted to kiss him and kill him, all at the same time.

“I guess you might still say that's not all that weird. But the feeling didn't fade at all. Even when I tried to ignore him, I'd find myself closer to him than I thought I wanted to be, and I still wanted to grab him and make out while I also wanted to smack him. And eventually we had to talk about it, and he said he felt the same.

“Finally, our alpha found out. He chewed us both out for being stupid enough to add an extra bond to the pack bond, and then try to break it. He said the two bonds interfere, and without breaking them both – which neither of us wanted to leave the pack – it makes it crazy hard to actually break just the one.

“Eventually, after another few weeks, during which time my ex and I still felt like we were going crazy, he decided to leave. And it was hard for me for a day or so (probably for him, too, I'm guessing) and then finally I was okay. But the moral of the story is, if you start a relationship with a packmate, you better be pretty damn sure you're soulmates, too, and you'll never, ever have to break up.”

Lucy thought her heart had already plunged as low as it could, but then she saw the first reply to this post. The second poster said she went through something similar, but it was even worse because the packmate she had started dating, and then broken up with, was her alpha. Apparently the guy had been the one to break it off, because he had felt like it was hurting the dynamics of the pack. But then he'd kept coming around to see her, and then backing off again and apologizing. Meanwhile, she said she was furious, lost, and heartbroken, and could never manage to tell him to go away. Finally, she had to leave the pack, which she described as, “the closest to impossible of anything else I've ever done.”

By now, Lucy felt tears on her face (yet again). But she read the next post. To her surprise and relief, it was from another poster who was very skeptical about the entire scenario the first two women had described. “I've had a relationship that ended in a breakup within my pack,” said the woman, “and sure, it wasn't pleasant, but we both got over it. Neither of us left the pack, either. Now, it was close to unbearable for about two weeks, but that was just because of how much we both had really wanted it to work. We were devastated. We dealt with it. We moved on, like adults. I don't believe there was any 'extra bond' involved, besides the fact that we had been in love and then we weren't anymore, and it was awkward because we were still in the same place a lot, like the first poster said. So don't let someone else's weird superstition about dating packmates stop you. Just be mature about it.”

After that post, there was more discussion. The first two posters insisted they weren't making it up. A couple other site members added in their own opinions, but without any firsthand knowledge. The third poster, the skeptic, was still very sure that there was nothing else going on besides the normal pain and awkwardness of a break-up.

Lucy wiped her face and breathed deeply. There was no reason to panic. People had all kinds of theories about everything on the internet. She knew that. A Lycanth-only website wasn't immune to that kind of thing. But just for the sake of being informed, she logged out of that site and into the other Lycanth forum where she was a member. Searching through the topics, she found one with a similar heading and clicked.

Again, there were a handful of tales of woe from people who had been through messy breakups within their own pack. Some gave the same warning about the extra bonds involved and how they made things especially intolerable. And again there were other posters who disagreed strongly with that interpretation of events.

Lucy sat back against the couch, letting the tablet drop to her lap. Her mother had never warned her about relationships within the pack. Granted, none of her packmates had ever pursued such a relationship, but... still. She rubbed a hand over her eyes, which were dry and tired. Was this part of why she had freaked out earlier, and used her alpha ability on Wyatt? She definitely didn't want to believe that she could have so little control over her own actions. But that wouldn't change no matter what had caused it.

With a jolt of adrenaline, Lucy realized that if there was anything to this theory or excuse about extra bonds within a pack, she had even more with Wyatt than anyone who had posted about it on the forums. Not only was he her packmate, and she his alpha, but she'd turned him. Any Lycanth who wasn't a terrible person agreed that turning someone meant you had a responsibility to make sure they made the transition well, found a supportive pack, and settled in. In the back of her mind, Lucy had already been worried about how she could keep doing that for Wyatt when she also wanted to keep her distance and protect her heart. Reading about these other Lycanth and how they had suffered, even for those where there was only a pack bond involved, was not encouraging.

Eventually, she must have fallen asleep in the midst of her anxious thoughts. The next thing she knew, she was back in that gym, a collar around her neck, with the sounds of the crowd jeering and shouting. But this time, the one on the other side, facing off with her, was Wyatt. He had the same kind of collar on, and he looked like he had already been through at least one fight.

His eyes were terrified and furious, and somehow she already knew that he was about to lose control. He didn't have as much experience in his wolf form as she did in hers, and he had been driven to the brink. He still knew her, but as she tried to look him in the eye, to get him to calm down, his eyes slid away from her and he growled. Ears back, he retreated from her.

There was an angry shout from someone that was probably supposed to be the boss who had forced her – forced them – to do this, but the voice didn't sound right. It sounded more familiar, like someone she knew well. Whoever it was, they somehow jerked on the chain attached to Wyatt's collar, dragging him forward, closer to her.

Lucy retreated in turn, as he yelped and then staggered toward her. She didn't want to do this. She couldn't. She was his alpha. She was supposed to protect him, not hurt him. Desperately, she tried to meet his eyes again, tried to communicate that he didn't have to do this – or at least that she was sorry.

The recognition in his eyes was barely there, now. Lucy whined, and took another step back. Whoever was in charge didn't seem to find it necessary to force her forward, as they had for Wyatt. There was no good option here. She didn't want to just give in and allow herself to be attacked, but she couldn't attack him, either.

When the first rush came, she dodged. And it was easier than she'd thought it might, like... like Wyatt didn't want to be doing this. Which she knew he didn't. Even if he wasn't able to remember who she was, there was no version of Wyatt who would be violent just for the sake of violence.

In fact, now he was standing there, close to her, staring in confusion and dismay. He whined, and stepped backward again, shaking his head. Then Lucy felt a tug on her own collar, and choked. Wyatt was making a horrible gagging sound, too, and suddenly it was impossible to breathe and the spikes in the collar were stabbing into her. The pulling increased. Were they both going to die here? Even if they refused to fight?

Staggering, Lucy tried to look at Wyatt again. She didn't want him to die. She didn't want to die without telling him that she still loved him, would always love him, even though she couldn't have him. But now she was going to die without even getting that chance.

“Lucy!”

Who was shouting her name, now? No one there even knew her name. Except Wyatt, but he couldn't talk. She tried to breathe.

“Lucy, wake up!”

But she was about to pass out. She just wasn't getting enough air. And Wyatt couldn't be, either.

“Please wake up, Lucy. It's just a dream!”

Her eyes opened, though it seemed to take a lot of effort. She could vaguely see someone bending over her. It was dark. She still couldn't breathe.

“Lucy?”

She tried to inhale, one hand to her throat. That was Jiya. She thought. But she still couldn't draw a breath.

“Okay, Lucy,” said Jiya, putting out a hand gently to touch hers. “I don't know what the hell kind of nightmare you were just having, but it's over. You're awake. Whatever that was, it isn't real.”

She made a faint sound, pathetically like the whimper she might have made if she were in wolf form. Jiya was right. There was no actual physical obstacle to her being able to breathe.

“You're okay,” said Jiya soothingly, and then winced. “Well, I mean, you're not in danger. Obviously you're not really okay. But you're safe.”

Closing her eyes again briefly, Lucy tried not to remember the last time she'd had a full-blown panic attack after a nightmare. It was a lost cause, though. She remembered Wyatt's arms around her, grounding her, comforting her, and his quiet voice declaring that she hadn't lost him. But now she had.

Struggling until she sat up, Lucy grabbed Jiya's hand and managed one shallow breath. Then another.

“Good.” Jiya sat down next to her, not letting go of her hand. She shoved aside the tablet that must have been on top of Lucy but had fallen to the couch. “Keep breathing.”

She did her best. Finally, she regained enough control and sense of reality to be sure the attack was on its way out. Of course, there were also tears running down her face. Though she was too tired and emotionally drained to even be able to really cry.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Lucy shook her head. “How did you even find me? I know I didn't wake you up this time.” Her voice was hoarse. She cleared her throat.

“No, you didn't wake me up.” Jiya sighed. “I wasn't really sleeping. And then I realized it was really late and you weren't in the room. So I wanted to see what was going on.”

“Oh.” She sighed, releasing Jiya's hand so she could wipe her face with both of hers. “Well. Thanks for waking _me_ up.”

“You're welcome.” Jiya stood and disappeared for a second, but it was only to come back immediately with the tissue box that had been in the dining area.

“Thank you.” Lucy took a tissue and blew her nose. “Again.”

“No problem.” She paused a moment, then went on. “But can we both try for some sleeping in actual beds, now?” She yawned. “I know there's no guarantee that it will work, but still.”

Huffing out a breath, Lucy nodded. She fought back a yawn of her own. “We should try.”

~~~~~~

Wyatt was honestly surprised he had responded as well as he did to Agent Christopher taking him off the mission to do something in the present instead. He did not want to leave his team – and Mason – in the hands of Garcia Flynn. And the man's promise to keep them safe didn't do much to relieve his anxieties.

Of course, those anxieties were probably worse than they would have been if he had any idea what had happened with Lucy the night before. He knew he'd screwed up by halfway admitting that he wasn't sure whether he preferred her or his actual wife. If he tried to put himself in Lucy's shoes, he knew that wouldn't have made him feel any better, either.

But then she had flinched backward from him, like she was afraid of him. And she'd _ordered_ him away, with her alpha ability. That had been the first time he'd ever felt its effects, and it had been incredible how everything in him just needed to obey. And then it had been awful, once he realized that some part of her had been desperate enough – well, he assumed it was desperation, because anything else was even worse – to feel like she needed to do that to him.

Her expression afterward had been horrified, though, like she hadn't meant to do it. When she literally ran away, he was left feeling like he had made things between them a hundred times worse, when all he'd started out wanting to do was express his genuine gratitude for her selfless kindness. Because whatever had freaked her out so much, the chances were pretty high that it was his fault.

All his very complicated and painful feelings had led to a sleepless night next to the woman he was supposed to be focusing on but definitely wasn't, while he tried to figure out what to do next. The logical and dutiful answer, that he already knew, was to try to get Lucy out of his head and heart. But it wasn't something he could just turn off. In fact, the more he tried, the more it made him think about her. It made him miss her, miss the way things had been between them such a short time ago.

Still, if he just gave up on Jessica now, what did that make him? She already thought of him as a bad husband, obviously. He didn't want to live down to her rock-bottom expectations. And he was so genuinely happy that she was alive. He had missed her for so long that it seemed impossible that he was actually making new memories with her in them. Part of him was even resentful that these moments that should have been so joyful were tainted with the sadness and angst of whatever this was with him and Lucy. Yet when that unreasonable part of him tried to take the step of blaming Lucy, he couldn't do it. That was going too far.

So he was both glad in a pathetic way, and also worried that he hadn't had the chance to try talking to Lucy again before this jump. Not really. She'd apologized to him, gaze not meeting his, the next time they'd run into each other, but hadn't given him the chance to say anything else before she vanished again.

That wasn't enough. He knew he needed to understand what was going on with her, and he wasn't going to be able to figure it out without her input. But on the other hand, maybe a little while apart would clear both of their heads.

Striking a blow against Rittenhouse right in the here-and-now, which was what Christopher wanted him to do, seemed like it might help him with that goal. And when the second location she sent him to turned out to be Rittenhouse headquarters, he couldn't deny his excitement. This could be a major step toward ending all of this.

It really seemed like it would be, as he went in. They were obviously not expecting an assault. He was able to keep advancing, even once the alarm went off – and after there was an explosion.

Then suddenly the target in front of him was Carol Preston. This was the enemy, as Agent Christopher's voice over his earpiece reminded him. He didn't even need her reminder. This was the woman who had kidnapped Lucy, tried to brainwash her, and let her be tortured by people who didn't think she was human. She was responsible for bringing Nicholas Keynes back to the present.

Yet he couldn't do it. He couldn't take the shot. He just kept seeing Lucy's devastated face when she'd told him she had lost everything. If he took Carol out now, then Lucy really wouldn't have any family left. Lucy had loved her mother once – and the woman had tried to save her daughter the last time they'd been in the same place.

“You can't do it, can you?” Lucy's mother said, wondering. “And I don't think you'd be able to even if she weren't your alpha.”

That was when Keynes came around the corner shooting. Wyatt didn't have any more time to decide. He had to take cover, and watch as Keynes and Carol ran to the Mothership. Emma must have been inside, because it disappeared after that.

But he had time to think about it when it was all over. Agent Christopher made sure he knew she wasn't accepting any BS excuse about his gun jamming. “You need to figure out whatever's going on between you and Lucy,” she said.

Don't I know it, Wyatt did not say out loud. Instead, he just agreed. Then he told himself he was absolutely going to have a real conversation with Lucy as soon as he was back and the Lifeboat was back.

And he really intended to. He hadn't counted on how taken aback he would be to see the group of them coming out laughing, almost giddy. Even worse was that Lucy was acting so... _friendly_ with Flynn. When he called out her name, it came out accusing and Wyatt knew that was stupid, but he couldn't help it.

She stopped, and the happiness faded away, to be replaced by tension and something else that looked painfully like mistrust. But Flynn excused himself, anyway, and Lucy turned to face him. For about a minute, they had a normal conversation. Kind of. Until Lucy complimented Flynn's work with the team, which made Wyatt's heart sink even further than it already had – and then she wouldn't talk to him about the details of the mission.

“Go be with Jessica,” she finished, with a smile that looked forced at best.

“Wait,” he made himself say, before she turned away. “I – fine, yes, I see your point, but I think we at least need to talk about... about what happened before. When you used your alpha ability.” He didn't add “on me”, because he knew she would know what he meant. And he really didn't want to hurt her for no reason.

Still, she paled. “I told you I was sorry.”

“And I believed you. I still do. I'm not mad. But I don't even understand what happened, and I feel like it would be a good thing if I did.”

She swallowed. “Um. Let me just changed out of these clothes, and then I guess... we can talk in the kitchen. Maybe we can get everyone else to leave, tell them it's a Lycanth thing we have to work out.”

He nodded, relieved that she wasn't fighting him on this, or acting scared. Nervous, definitely, but he could work with that. “Okay. And is it?”

“I – yes,” she said, staring at the ground. Then she turned around again and walked away. She may have been walking quickly, but she wasn't running this time. So that was something.

Keeping her words in mind, as unwelcome as they had been, he went back to the room he shared with Jessica. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey.” She gave a smile, which turned into a frown. “You look serious.”

“Yeah, it was a... weird day.” He sat and started to take off the rest of the tac gear. “And now that the team's back, I'm about to have an awkward conversation with Lucy about a Lycanth thing.”

“Oh?” She set down the book she'd been flipping through.

“Yeah.” He put each piece of gear on his bed in order. “I'd tell you more, but I honestly don't even understand enough about it yet to explain it to you.”

She raised her eyebrows, but nodded. “Okay. Well, maybe it'll be less awkward than you think.”

He doubted that. “Maybe.”

“And speaking of Lycanth things, I was thinking of talking to Agent Christopher tomorrow about the prescription you said I'm going to need. Morfex, right?”

Wyatt wasn't sure what kind of face he made at that. He knew he should be happy that she was willing to go through this hassle so they could be together. Instead, though, the idea didn't make him happy at all. Somehow, all he could think of was Lucy's forced smile when she had told him to come talk to his wife. “Uh, okay,” he finally said.

“What? Wyatt, I'm choosing this. Choosing you. I know you said we couldn't be 100% sure it will protect me, but I'm all right with that.” She stood so she could take his hand.

“It's just... it's a lot,” he told her. “For me, I know it's been a lot. And like I said, I know even I don't have a handle on everything about being Lycanth yet.”

“Uh huh. I'm not worried.” She smiled. “Go have your talk with Lucy. Tell me about it afterward, so we both have more of a handle on things.”

He nodded. Her smile still made his heart ache. He still remembered years of only being able to see it in worn-out photos, or in his dreams. Squeezing her hand, he kissed her forehead. “I'll see what I can do.”

He got to the kitchen before Lucy did. Rufus was there, finishing up a snack. He was glad to hear Wyatt's update on the Rittenhouse situation, but seemed preoccupied. Whatever the reason, he accepted Wyatt's explanation about wanting to have a Lycanth-themed conversation, with just him and Lucy. And he agreed to tell the others.

“Hi.” Lucy came in then, back to modern-day clothes, and took a deep breath. “So, I have to admit, first thing, that I – I'm not sure about this. What I'm going to say. This is all unexplored territory for me. So I don't know that I have a great answer for you.”

“Okay,” said Wyatt.

She crossed her arms. “Okay. Um, let me start here: I wasn't actually scared of you. When I – when I accidentally ordered you away. I know you'd never be a danger to me. But I...” She trailed off, closing her eyes for a moment. “You need to not do that, to act like we can just be as physically close as we used to.” Her voice was quiet, but steady. “I can't do that. Because I can't turn off … wanting to be close like we were. Not easily, even though I know it's the right thing to do. So please don't make it harder.” Once again, she was staring anywhere but at him by the time she was finished.

Wyatt had two simultaneous reactions: one was that what she had just described fit how he had been feeling more than he wanted to admit. The second was that he didn't know if he could stand it. He wanted to take her in his arms right then and there, but she had literally just told him not to do that.

She glanced up to his face for just a second, when he didn't say anything. Then she cleared her throat. “Um, so that was the part I'm pretty sure about. The other part is a theory on a couple of Lycanth-only message boards online, so there's no science or actual proof for it.” She went on to explain that there were a handful of people, Lycanth on those sites, that had experienced a breakup after dating within their own pack that had been much harder than they expected. They speculated that it was the other bonds – being packmates, and in one case an alpha with his subordinate – that interfered and made the romantic bond hard to actually break. “And, uh, for the two of us, there's even more than that, because I also turned you. So, if there's anything to this, then...” She trailed off and sighed. “On the message boards, the people who posted about this said that the only way they could deal with it, in the end, was to leave the pack. But since neither of us can actually do that, I don't know what to suggest.”

Wyatt was pretty sure the idea of separating from her made his lungs stop working – although actually, the idea of her being the one to leave was even worse. With difficulty, he swallowed. “Me, neither.”

“On the other hand,” she said, this time with a smile that was bitter instead of forced, “that theory might just be people inventing some way for their breakup pain to be something more than it was.” She shrugged, her arms still crossed. “So maybe we don't have to worry.”

She looked miserable. “Well, I still hate this,” Wyatt said. “Either way, it's going to be plenty hard.”

She didn't say anything, although he thought her breathing might have sped up. And now there was an odd expression on her face. It was almost like the fed-up one she had when someone had just said something ridiculous and tried to pass it off as fact. Not quite like that – it was sadder, for one thing – but close.

That, he didn't understand. And it went away quickly, so he wondered if he'd really seen anything like that. In fact, he wasn't sure how much this conversation had actually helped anything. Except that now he knew Lucy didn't want him to touch her. Like, at all. And he knew, in case he hadn't already, that this was hell for her. As if she needed any more of that in her life.

“Anyway. Thanks for telling me.”

She nodded. “I'm, um, going to go now.”

“Good night,” he said, although she was already far enough away that she probably hadn't heard him. Whether or not she did, she didn't turn around.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still catching up with canon, slowly but surely. I do diverge from it quite a bit here, but it's necessary for the way my story's going!
> 
> (Also, what is NBC even doing right now, guys?! #RenewTimeless)

~~~~~~

As if to top off the awkwardness and pain of that conversation, Lucy's phone chimed as she was heading into her room. When she checked the message, it was an alert from Dr. Riley's office, saying that he wasn't going to be able to make their weekly appointment tomorrow. He apologized, and gave her a number to use if she felt like she was having a crisis.

Closing the door behind her, Lucy sat down on the bed. She could not imagine talking to a stranger, someone who didn't even know any of her history, about this latest series of developments. Granted, Dr. Riley wouldn't have remembered a timeline where Jessica was dead and she and Wyatt had been... whatever they had been, but at least he knew her. So that meant she wasn't going to be able to talk to anyone about this. Rufus would have been an option, but he'd been so down recently, himself. She didn't want to burden him.

Sighing, Lucy suddenly remembered that she'd offered to let Rufus have the room with Jiya tonight. Which meant she would be out on the couch, with the only privacy available being if no one happened to come by. But then, maybe no one would. Both Wyatt and Rufus had good reasons to stay in their respective rooms. And neither Flynn nor Mason usually made a point to hang around in the common areas at night, either.

On the other hand, over an hour later and after a number of drinks from the bottle of vodka she'd opened that evening, Lucy still wished she could vent somewhere, to someone. She wasn't tired. Not physically. And she didn't want to try sleeping in wolf form again. It was a bad idea when she was spending the night in an area where she'd be more likely to come into contact with more people. Plus, if one of those people happened to be Wyatt, and there was any truth to those theories about Lycanth instincts, it seemed like being in wolf form would only make that whole mess even worse.

Leaning back against the couch, Lucy thought of the journal – the empty one her mother had given her. Writing down her thoughts would help her organize them, but on the other hand, that was The Journal, or it would be some day, and Lucy still wasn't even sure she want to ensure its existence. No matter what Flynn said about it.

Then she paused. Flynn. He'd told her today – or back in the past, to be more accurate – that he wanted to get to know her. And he had seemed genuine. She was pretty sure he hadn't been trying to flirt. (At least, she hoped not, because surely if he knew her at all as well as he claimed to, he'd have to understand she was in no way ready for anything like that.) The point was, he would probably be willing to listen. Maybe he'd offer some of his life story, in return.

She decided not to think about it anymore. Instead, she stood, grabbed the vodka, and made her way to Flynn's door. She knocked, and he opened the door as if he'd been expecting her. Then he ushered her inside.

“I just thought maybe we could talk. And drink,” she said.

He nodded. “By all means.” He insisted that she take the bed, while he sat in the uncomfortable chair across from it. After she'd had a drink, he gestured for the bottle and took a swallow.

“Is this all in the journal?” she finally asked, breaking the silence that fell. “This whole... trainwreck?”

Flynn handed the bottle back. “I doubt you wrote down everything, but yes.”

She sighed. “Doesn't it get boring? Knowing everything that's going to happen? I mean, especially when it's drama that doesn't even involve you.” She took another long swallow. She couldn't decide whether the cheap vodka was too much of a burn at this point, or too little.

He huffed out a breath. “It's hardly everything. One little book doesn't have room for that.”

She glared, taking another drink. “You didn't answer my question.”

“That was part of my answer,” he insisted, leaning back. “It's not boring because I don't know everything. And also, this drama does involve me. We're all in this tin can together, in case you haven't noticed, and when we're not, we're trusting each other to keep us all alive in the past.”

Trust. Lucy sighed. She remembered when she'd declared her firm belief that Wyatt made the right decision, every time. It didn't seem that long ago, and yet it also seemed like a lifetime. And now? She hadn't stopped trusting him. Not totally. Not when it came to their missions. But as much as she did sympathize with how this wasn't easy for him, either, she was less than sure that his actions these past few days were the right ones. She downed another swallow.

Flynn held out his hand again, then took a turn with the bottle. “He is being an idiot, by the way. You are definitely not the only one to think that.”

Lucy didn't bother asking who he was talking about. “Yeah, well, I feel like the bigger idiot, right now.”

Raising his eyebrows, Flynn said, “For pushing him toward a wife he clearly isn't in love with? I wouldn't say that makes you an idiot. Not precisely.”

“What are you talking about?” She grabbed back the bottle. “You know what, never mind. There's no way I wrote enough in the journal for you to be so sure about Wyatt.”

“If you say so.”

Glaring again, she took a long drink. “I don't want to talk about this anymore.” She was definitely buzzed now. Probably more than buzzed.

“Fine. What should we talk about?”

She scoffed. “I don't know.”

“Let me remind you that you're the one who came in here, to talk and drink, as I believe you put it.” He gave one of his trademark sarcastic smiles.

“Uh huh.” She yawned. After a short pause, she decided to ask, “How did you stand it? In solitary? Even here, everyone treats you like a – a criminal.”

“I'm very aware of who and what I am,” he said. “And I never forget what I'm fighting for.”

Lucy choked on the mouthful of vodka she'd just tried to swallow. It was sheer luck that she didn't end up spraying it all over herself – or all over Flynn's bed. With difficulty, she caught her breath. Did _everything_ have to remind her of Wyatt? Wiping irritably at tears that were maybe not just from choking, Lucy leaned back against the wall.

“Are you all right?” There was no sarcasm in his voice.

“Who the hell knows?” she mumbled. “I might have trapped both myself and Wyatt in some bizarre, twisted Lycanth bond thing that we can't get out of unless one of us leaves for good. Or that might be a load of bullshit.” She laughed bitterly, taking yet another drink. “I can't tell the difference. I don't know if he can, either.”

“I don't know if he can tell his right from his left, at the moment,” was Flynn's response, as he leaned across to take the bottle from her. “Which is an observation, not an attempt to excuse his behavior.” Then, after a drink of his own, he added, “I don't know anything about Lycanth bonds, obviously, but I don't see how you possibly trapped Wyatt in anything.”

Sighing again, Lucy shrugged. “Whatever.” She sniffed. “I'm starting to wonder...” Her voice wasn't very clear anymore, she thought, but then decided she didn't care. “I'm starting to wonder what it would be like, if I just... ran off, sometime, some trip, after we've caught the bad guys, and lived in the forest.”

Flynn blinked. “In your wolf form?”

“No, as Sasquatch,” she said, rolling her eyes. She gestured for the bottle back. He seemed reluctant, but then he handed it over. She drank. “Yes, in my wolf form. It would be simpler.”

“I suppose it would.” There was silence for a little while, and then he cleared his throat. “But I don't think you'll do that. Not while Rittenhouse is still trying to destroy history.”

She snorted, which somehow caused her to start coughing again. Thankfully only for a few seconds. “Yep. That's me. Don't know when to quit.” The bottle was almost empty by this point, but Lucy finished it. She was also slipping down against the wall, she suddenly realized. But she was pretty tired, and it didn't seem to matter.

“That's for sure,” Flynn was saying, and then he stood up and took the bottle from her unresisting fingers. “Get some sleep, Lucy.”

That sounded like a decent idea. She shifted positions so that her head was actually facing toward the head of the bed. “You, too,” she muttered.

~~~~~~~

Wyatt hadn't slept well that night. Once again. Which was definitely going to catch up to him at some point soon. The few hours he had spent asleep had been full of stressful dreams where he had been in wolf form, running after someone or something he couldn't quite see. So when it was basically morning, he gave up and got out of bed, doing his best not to wake his sleeping wife. Coffee would be good. And a shower.

As he headed out into the hall, though, he spotted something that drove any thoughts of his morning routine out of his mind. That was Lucy, coming out of Flynn's room. And her hair was mussed, and she was wearing the same clothes he'd seen her in when they were having their Lycanth-only conversation. He felt that same breathlessness he'd noticed last night when she had mentioned how the Lycanth who posted on that forum said they had to separate from each other to save their sanity. He also felt like throwing up.

He took one quick step forward, ready to catch up to her and demand to know what she was doing. And then he took a slow breath, instead. That would be a very bad idea. He knew it would. He had no control over her – never had, and never should. She could make her own choices. He wasn't so much of an asshole that he would try to take that away from her.

That didn't mean he didn't take a discreet breath in through his nose when Flynn came into the bathroom, later that morning. And thank God, he could barely detect any sign of Lucy's scent on him. Not really any more than there would be, normally, because they were all in such close quarters. And since the other man hadn't showered yet, that was all he needed to remove that weight from his chest.

Still, he couldn't find it within himself to just let it slide. He wouldn't take it out on Lucy, but Flynn, on the other hand? Ignoring the man's question about hot water, Wyatt said, “Look, I don't know what your angle is, but you'd better not hurt her.”

“Lucy?” As usual, Flynn seemed completely unfazed by the threat in Wyatt's voice. “You know, the number of times you've made some kind of pointless, half-hearted threat about her to me is getting ridiculous by this point.”

He really wanted to punch that smug smile off his face. But he had at least enough self-awareness to know that would only feel good for about thirty seconds, and it wouldn't solve anything. “I don't trust you. I don't believe you've had any kind of change of heart. You're only helping us because we're all fighting Rittenhouse now.”

“I've never claimed otherwise,” Flynn pointed out. “But if you know that much about me, than you'll know I have no reason to hurt any of you – and certainly not Lucy, who is the reason I'm not still in prison.”

“Whatever.” Wyatt sighed. “I don't care if I've said it before. My point stands: don't hurt her.”

Flynn actually rolled his eyes. “Lately, I don't seem to be the one that needs to hear that.”

Knowing that he didn't have a good comeback to that, Wyatt just picked up his shaving gear and left. Damn Flynn and his self-righteousness and condescension. As if he had any moral high ground at all.

When the Mothership jumped a few hours later, Wyatt was eager for this trip to be back to normal – back to the original Time Team. Infuriatingly, though, it seemed like Flynn got to insert himself into the Lifeboat with the three of them, too. Wyatt was having a hard time not sniping at the guy every chance he got.

And then Grace Humiston had to go and read him and Lucy like a book, as soon as she saw them. Granted, there were a couple of complications she wouldn't have any reason to be able to figure out. Still, her analysis hit pretty close to home. He could see Lucy felt the same.

Finally, though, while they waited for this “Mrs. Sherlock Holmes” to talk to the relevant officer on their behalf, Wyatt had to say something to her. “Lucy...” He paused. Again, he wanted to avoid sounding like a jerk here, if he could.

“What?” She was about as far away from him as she could be, while still talking to him. No wonder Grace had noticed.

“I know it's none of my business what you choose to do, but... are you sure hanging around with Flynn is a good idea?”

She bristled. “You're right. It _is_ none of your business.” Crossing her arms, she turned away.

“I'm just worried about you. Flynn is still an unknown quantity. I don't trust him.”

She looked over at him, one eyebrow raised. “Uh huh.”

Obviously she wasn't going to give him anything here. “Just be careful, okay?”

She didn't respond.

Her annoyance might have faded as they did their best to salvage the trip without Alice Paul, but it wasn't far gone. That became clear when he tried to stop her from giving a speech that would no doubt get her killed. “I just don't want you to get hurt,” he said.

“Yeah? Well, it's a little late for that,” she snapped.

His mouth fell open, but he shut it quickly. He deserved that. As Flynn had so aggravatingly pointed out earlier. “I know. But that's all the more reason.”

She sighed. “Wyatt, it's hard enough for me to keep focused on doing this job without you distracting me. I'm going to go give this speech now.”

And without another word, she turned to do just that. Wyatt ran a hand through his hair. Apparently, his best option was to follow her and try to keep the sleeper from taking her out. So that's what he would do.

When it was over – when Lucy's speech to Grace at the suffragette headquarters had inspired the woman in turn to give the speech at the march – she was still trying to figure the two of them out. Mentally, he wished her luck, since he didn't think either of them could say they had a good handle on what they were at the moment. But at least they'd done what they came to do, and he thought both of them felt better for it.

He caught Jessica up just a little bit, once the team was back in the bunker. But even with the life-and-death things he was trying to describe, the story seemed lifeless because it just didn't feel right for him to emphasize to her how vital Lucy had been to the mission. And then he listened to himself skirt around the truth, and hated how he sounded. This was all wrong.

Sighing, he sat down on the bed across from his wife. Maybe this wasn't the right moment, but he didn't think there was going to be a better one. “Jess... I can't keep doing this. I really, really thought I could. I wanted to. I wanted to be better than the Wyatt you remember.”

Jessica's eyes widened. “What are you saying?” Her voice was faint.

“I'm saying I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought you here. I should have just signed the divorce papers and let you go on with your life, instead of trapping you down here when I.... when my heart's not even in it anymore.”

“Wyatt...” Now her eyes filled with tears. “I don't believe this. I changed my mind. I decided to give you a second chance. That wasn't even a month ago!”

“I know. I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you,” Wyatt said, his throat closing. He tried to clear it. “But all that time, I've just been clinging on to my memories, my idealized picture of what we were supposed to be like.”

Jess blew out a breath, wiping under her eyes. “So what made you realize you're not going to stop being in love with Lucy?”

He looked up from where his gaze had fallen, staring at her. The expression on her face was hard to read. It definitely wasn't happy, but that was all he could tell. “You knew?”

“It was pretty obvious from the beginning.” She took a step forward and took both of his hands in hers. “I guess it was ridiculous to think we could both keep pretending it wasn't true, hmm?” She sighed again. “In some ways, I was kind of hoping you'd take longer to have your epiphany, though.”

“You were?” Something about this seemed off, even as he was glad she wasn't taking this too terribly.

She nodded. “I just got my Morfex prescription today. But I don't know how you'd feel about one last goodbye.” She put a hand to his face.

He put his hand over hers. “I don't know.” Honestly, he wasn't wild about it. Which was probably answer enough. “I don't think it would be fair to you when my heart isn't in it, like I said.”

Her face fell. “Yeah, I kind of thought you'd say that.” Moving her hands back to her sides, she gave a sad smile. “You are different from him, by the way. The Wyatt I remember. It's been a long time since I've seen you so open and honest. And if this is how you are now, even when your heart's somewhere else? Well, I guess I owe your Lucy thanks, even though I'm jealous as hell.”

His heart twinged. He was glad, at least, that he'd be spared the pain of Jessica hating Lucy. Not that he'd done anything to keep that from happening – it was all Lucy, herself. “I wish I could make this easier on you.”

Shaking her head, she sat back down on the bed. “Unless you're going to use your time machine, we can't change it now.” Her voice was heavy on the irony.

“Maybe so, but I am still sorry. For what it's worth.”

After a short pause, she looked at him again. “So I'm guessing, if I have no official reason to stay, I'll have to leave pretty soon?”

He blinked. Somehow he hadn't thought much about that. “Yeah, I guess. We'll have to talk to Agent Christopher, see what she says. And I'm betting you won't be too sad to not be trapped in here.”

She huffed out a breath. “Okay, so there's a silver lining. Anyway, can we wait until tomorrow morning, at least, to get started on that?” At the look on his face, she smiled ruefully. “I'm not going to try to seduce you when you obviously don't want it, Wyatt. I just... I probably would be staying until then, anyway, right? And if this is the last night we're going to be living together, I still want it to be together. As long as you're still okay with that.”

Though part of him still wondered if there was another shoe he should be expecting to drop, Wyatt found himself nodding. He was smiling, too. “Sure.” Then something occurred to him. “But, um, do you mind if I tell Lucy? Just that – that I'm going to sign the divorce papers. I doubt she'll want to hear much from me right now, anyway.”

Jessica didn't look thrilled, but she gave a nod. “Yeah, I guess if I'm trying not to be a bitch about this, I won't stop you.”

So Wyatt went to find Lucy. She was sitting in the dining area. There was a computer open on the table, but she was facing away from it, looking lost in thought. He glanced at the screen. Apparently Lucy's legacy in the suffragette movement went beyond Grace Humiston's speech. “Mrs. Sherlock Holmes” had become a leader in the fight for women's rights. But Lucy didn't seem happy about the facts she must have just read, that he read out loud.

“Alice isn't even a footnote,” Lucy said, her locket in her hand. She hadn't looked at him. “She's gone, disappeared. Everything that she sacrificed, all of her accomplishments. Like she never even existed, and I'm the only one that's going to remember her.”

He didn't even need to see her locket to know that she was thinking about Amy. “You're not the only one.” He came closer, automatically reaching out to offer her a touch, some reassurance. But he stopped himself, and then came over to stand in front of her, instead. “I won't forget her, either.”

She nodded once, obviously not convinced.

He sighed. “Lucy, I – I need to tell you something.”

Her eyes focused on him quickly, and she looked nervous. “What kind of thing?”

“I'm going to sign the divorce papers.”

“What?” Her face paled, and she stood up. “Why? You just got Jessica back! I thought she was giving you a second chance.”

“She was. But I haven't been...” He shook his head. “I've been trying to hold on to something that was gone a long time ago.”

Lucy swallowed visibly. “Wyatt, I – I have been trying to stay away, not to get in your way, and if you tell me you're still breaking up with your wife – your wife who was _dead_ and then _came back to life_ – because of me, then I –”

“No, no one's putting any blame on you.” He searched for the right words. He needed her to know that this was just as much about him as it was about her. “I changed. Of course I changed, after almost six years without Jessica. And I should have realized it right away, that even though I'm still thrilled she's not dead, I'm not in love with her anymore. Like I told her just now, I should have just signed the papers from the beginning, and let her get on with her life.”

“But you stole the Lifeboat for her. You said it would be worth whatever happened.” Her voice was quiet, and he could hear the anguish.

“I know. And maybe it did take her being alive again for me to really realize how I felt. But that doesn't change the fact that we're... over. It wasn't fair for me to keep going through the motions, and so tonight I finally told her.” He held his breath. He honestly had no idea what Lucy would do with this information.

After a long pause, she inhaled slowly and then looked at him. “And you came to find me, right after telling her? Is that it?” When he nodded, she closed her eyes for a moment. “Okay. Well, if you're expecting me to be happy, then I don't think I can manage that.”

“I'm not expecting anything right now. I know you're hurt, and I know that's my fault. You take whatever time you need.” He really wished he could hold her hand. Well, he wanted to kiss her, but he knew that was pure fantasy. “I just have one more thing to say, and that is that you're the most amazing person I have ever met. And I still want to be happy with you someday, if you can ever want that.”

Now she was crying, although she wiped away the tears as soon as they fell. “I don't know. Wyatt, please.”

He wasn't sure exactly what she was pleading for, but the fact that she felt like she had to was enough to shut him up. “I'm sorry. I just wanted you to know.” He stepped back. “Goodnight, Lucy.” Then he turned to walk away.

This time, at least he heard her shaky reply. “Goodnight.”

~~~~~~

Afterward, Lucy would eventually be thankful that she hadn't been able to sleep – again – that night. Lying there on her cot, she had found herself totally unable to shut off her brain. Wyatt was divorcing Jessica. Wyatt and Jessica were getting divorced. Wyatt said he wasn't in love with her, with the formerly-dead wife he had been willing to sacrifice everything to try to save. And he had said... he had said he wanted to be with _her_ , with Lucy. But he hadn't wanted to put pressure on her.

She thought longingly of the bunker's well-stocked liquor cabinet (she never saw Denise adding to its store, but she was pretty sure by how full it stayed that the agent knew that a number of this place's permanent residents made frequent use of it). On the other hand, she also didn't actually want to make a habit of relying on vodka (or any of the other options) to get to sleep every night.

So, insomnia it was. What would it take, she wondered, for her to be able to fully trust Wyatt again? She didn't have a clear answer. Only that it couldn't be immediate, as much as she missed him. Yet she had to admit the idea of not being paranoid about even accidentally brushing past him was a plus. Maybe they could at least try to go back to interacting without every little thing being heavy with meaning. That would be nice, no matter what might happen – or not – after.

She decided that would be her first goal. If she and Wyatt could navigate just normal, pleasant interactions, then maybe there was hope for them yet. At least to be friends again. And that was enough to start to relax.

Except that was when she heard a door open down the hall. And had there been some other, weirder sound before that? She wasn't sure. It didn't look like Jiya had noticed anything. She was still fast asleep. But now Lucy was pretty confident that she had actually heard someone. Sneaking around? Now why did her mind fill in that phrase? Anyone up at this time would naturally be quiet, just to be polite, right?

It was just as she had thrown back her covers and sat up that she realized that the sound was getting closer. Who was coming here? It wasn't Wyatt. She could tell that by scent. It was... Jessica? Now Lucy was even more confused. She grabbed her phone. It was past three o'clock in the morning. Her heart was pounding now.

“Jiya,” Lucy whispered, setting the phone back down as the doorknob started to move, “Jiya, wake up.”

The other woman groaned faintly.

Lucy stood. “Jiya!” she hissed.

The door opened. And there was Jessica, a gun in her hand. Lucy's brain froze. “Jessica? What-?”

Jiya had sat up when the door opened, and now she was staring in horror. “What the hell is going on?”

“Sorry to disturb you,” Jessica said grimly. “But you're going to need to come with me.”

“Why?” Lucy said blankly. Then one of the terrified thoughts that had been at the back of her mind came suddenly to the front. “What did you do to Wyatt?”

Jessica smirked. “He'll be fine. Probably. Now, like I said, I need you to come with me, Jiya.”

“Me?” Jiya squeaked.

“Uh huh. What, you thought I meant the princess over there?” She adjusted her grip on the gun – Wyatt's gun, Lucy realized – and pointed it more obviously at Jiya. “No. As much as I'd like to _teach_ her a little something, that's not why I'm here. I need a pilot.”

Lucy gulped. She exchanged a panicked look with her friend. “But if you're Rittenhouse, why didn't you sell us all out weeks ago? Why stay here?” As unobtrusively as she could, she eased one hand toward the Morfex patch on her shoulder.

Jessica didn't seem to notice the movement. “Because that was my mission. Until my ridiculous husband decided he wasn't in love with me, after all.” Then she took several more steps into the room, closer to Jiya. “Now get up. This isn't a conversation.”

Jiya stood, her hands raised. “Where are we going?”

“It's a surprise,” said Jessica, gesturing with her gun. “Now get over here.”

Lucy removed her patch and stuck it to the inside of the t-shirt she was wearing as pajamas. She didn't know whether it would be better to try to get undressed before transforming, which would take more time, or risk transforming now and possibly being hampered by clothing. Either way was dangerous.

“As for you, Lucy – what are you doing?” Jessica's voice was sharp.

Apparently it was now or never. Lucy transformed. There was a scream, the sound of cloth tearing, and then a gunshot. Lucy dodged, purely on instinct, but still felt something fly by within inches of her face. She shook herself free of her shredded clothes, and then immediately lunged forward to latch on to the arm that was holding Jiya at gunpoint. She had judged correctly that Jessica's urge to save herself would overwhelm her need to fulfill this mission.

The gun fired again, but the bullet went wide as Jessica tried to get away from the snarling wolf whose jaws had barely missed her right arm. “Stop!” Jessica cried. “Get off me!” But Lucy jumped at her again, and this time her front paw scraped along the woman's hand. The gun fell from her grasp. Jessica swore and turned to run. Lucy leaped forward and grabbed the back of her shirt, dragging her to the ground.

Before the woman could even react, Lucy was on her, growling, all four paws pinning her down. She had never wanted to use her teeth to end someone's life as much as she did right then. This snake had manipulated Wyatt, manipulated and lied to all of them for weeks. And then she had hurt Wyatt, taken his gun somehow, and tried to take Jiya away. If anyone deserved to die, she did.

“Lucy!”

Through her fury, she recognized Flynn's voice. She hadn't seen him come in. And she didn't turn away from the terrified woman she was holding down. Instead, she continued to growl, shifting her weight and not minding at all that it made her prey wince in pain.

“What the hell happened?”

Jiya's voice was faint. “Jessica – she's Rittenhouse, she came in here with a gun, said she needed a pilot.”

Flynn swore. “Where is Wyatt?”

At that, Lucy turned toward them just enough to let out a whine. That was her one remaining worry. But she wasn't going to let up on Jessica, in the meantime.

“I – I don't know. Jessica said something about him being fine, but who knows?”

“Jiya! Lucy! Are you two all right?” That was Rufus' voice, as he skidded into the room. “Holy shit!”

“We're fine,” said Jiya. “Well, freaked out, but no one's hurt. Except probably _her_. Lucy attacked when she tried to kidnap me at gunpoint.”

“Oh my God.”

“We should find out what happened to Wyatt,” Flynn put in, then. “And I suppose someone should call Agent Christopher.” He had picked up the gun, Lucy was pretty sure.

“I did that, as soon as I heard the gunshots,” came another voice. It was Mason, from out in the hall. “She's on her way.”

“Thank God,” said Jiya. “Rufus, can you go check on Wyatt?”

“I'll come,” Mason added. “There's not enough space for all of us to hang out in your room, anyway.”

Jessica, meanwhile, had stopped struggling and seemed to have caught her breath. “Aren't there any handcuffs or something you people could use, instead of just letting your attack dog sit on me?”

Lucy growled again, leaning into her face and snapping, just for the satisfaction of watching her turn pale again.

“Nah, I think we're good,” said Jiya.

Flynn scoffed. “Perhaps Lucy will feel ready to let you go once Agent Christopher gets here. But I don't feel any particular reason to suggest that she move, right now.”

“That's a nasty scrape on your arm,” Jiya added. “Hey, Lucy, I didn't get a chance to see – did you end up biting her?”

Lucy glanced at her friend. Then she sniffed Jessica's right arm. With a sigh, she shook her head.

“Too bad,” Jiya remarked. “I wouldn't have minded seeing her face when she realized she'd been turned.”

Lucy huffed out a breath. That would have been satisfying – although she didn't want any more ties to this woman.

“Lucy?!”

Lucy immediately craned her head around toward the hall. That had been Wyatt's voice. She barked.

“Lucy!” He stumbled into the room, one hand to his head. “Oh my God. She stole my gun and cold-cocked me with it.”

Lucy whined. She could smell blood, and it looked like there was some, where his hand was.

“Are you two okay?” He was still looking between both of them.

“I'm fine, thanks to Lucy,” Jiya said.

Lucy wanted to inspect his injury for herself, make sure he would be all right, but that wasn't very possible at the moment. She met his eyes. They were clear, if pained. Now she wanted to be able to talk. On the other hand, she was also absolutely not letting Jessica up. She had regained enough control to know she wouldn't kill the woman. Until Agent Christopher was here, though, she was also not moving.

“I'll be okay, Lucy,” he said, his expression softening for a moment.

She nodded, although that didn't mean she stopped worrying.

Thankfully, Agent Christopher must have broken land-speed records in her haste to reach the bunker. She showed up just a few minutes later, with Mason on hand to escort her to the scene. By that point, Jiya had encouraged Wyatt to sit down on her bed so she could at least make sure his head wound wasn't going to need stitches. (Her non-expert opinion was that it wouldn't.)

When Christopher came in, her first item of business was directed at Lucy. “Thank God you caught her before she could do anything more serious. Now, I'm going to get out my gun with one hand, and the cuffs with the other, so if you could ease off, we'll make sure she doesn't try anything.”

“I'm not going to try anything,” Jessica muttered.

Lucy growled at that. But she followed Christopher's suggestion, and slowly took her weight off the captured woman. Thankfully, all Jessica did was roll to a seated position and immediately put up her hands. But Lucy stayed watchful until those hands were cuffed behind her.

“Wyatt, do I need to take you to a hospital, have them check you for a concussion?”

“No, thank you, ma'am,” said Wyatt. “I've had experience with concussions. I'm not nauseated or dizzy, and my vision is fine. I'll be okay.”

“Fine, but if you start to feel worse at all, you're going to get a MRI immediately.” He agreed, and Agent Christopher nodded. “Good. Now, Jessica, I'm taking you into custody as a suspected terrorist agent. If you come quietly, and agree to cooperate, there's a possibility you won't spend the rest of your life in a cell.”

“Take it from me,” Flynn put in. “That is not an option you'll enjoy.”

Wyatt's jaw was clenched, but he was very obviously refusing to look at his wife. Nor did he object to anything either Denise or Flynn said.

“Wyatt,” Jessica said, as Denise started to lead her away, “Wyatt. I – I'm sorry it had to be like this. I didn't want to hurt you.”

Lucy bared her teeth, but for Wyatt's sake, she kept quiet. She would be satisfied with the knowledge that she had protected Jiya, stopped Rittenhouse from getting control over the Lifeboat – oh, and stopped (and terrified) the traitor who had broken Wyatt's heart _again_. And both Jiya and Wyatt would be okay.

Wyatt still didn't say a word while the woman who had been his wife left, looking over her shoulder. Then he put his head into his hands, leaning over. The breath he let out was shaky.

“Well.” Flynn was the first to break the silence. “Now that this morning's excitement is over for the time being, I think I'll try for a little more sleep.”

Rufus cleared his throat. “Yeah, I don't think that's going to happen, for me. But I guess there's no reason to hang out here. Uh... God, Wyatt, I don't even know what to say. Other than, I'm sorry?”

Wyatt looked up at that. “I literally just broke up with her.” He gave a bitter laugh. “I signed the divorce papers because I'm not in love with her. Not like that. I'd been putting it off, pretending, because I didn't want to _hurt_ her. God.”

Rufus' eyes were wide. “Oh. Wow.”

“Yeah.”

Lucy whined again, faintly. This was getting intolerable. She should transform, although doing so with everyone else around was not appealing.

“Oh, um, do you want a blanket, or something, Lucy?” Jiya said, then. “I mean, I assume you might want to transform?”

She nodded.

“All right. Good night,” Flynn said then. “Sorry that bringing your wife here turned out to be quite _that_ bad of an idea, Wyatt.”

Wyatt glared at him, but the man was already leaving.

“Um. Yeah, good night,” Rufus said. “And thanks, Lucy.”

Lucy nodded again.

As Jiya took the blanket off Lucy's bed and spread it over her, Wyatt seemed to wake up. “I'll go, too.” He stood and headed toward the door.

But Lucy transformed as quickly as she could so that she could stand, the blanket around her. “Wyatt.”

He turned, eyebrows raised.

“Are you okay? Really?”

He swallowed. “I don't know.”

She still wanted to offer some real comfort, but nothing concrete came to mind.

“Jiya, I'm sorry. Flynn may be an ass, but he's right that this was my fault,” Wyatt said.

“Hey, I thought she was cool, too,” Jiya said, with a shrug. “I'm not mad at you.”

Just before he left, Lucy thought of something actually useful to say. “Oh, Wyatt?” When he turned again, she cleared her throat and said, “You should maybe take some Lupinox and sleep in your wolf form. So you're closer to healed, by morning.”

“Okay. Uh, thanks.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay. I was already dealing with writer's block before the cancellation news, and that definitely didn't help any. But I've still got more to come!
> 
> Also, sorry - angst warning here.

~~~~~~

By the time they were roused from sleep the next morning by the Mothership alarm, Lucy was sure Wyatt had not even started to forgive himself. She could read it in his tension, his grim expression, and how few words he was willing to exchange with anyone. Maybe it would have helped if Agent Christopher was there, but she was busy – possibly still dealing with Jessica, although Mason said he didn't know for sure.

In any case, it wasn't hard to recognize the date the Mothership had jumped to. It was the day Reagan was shot, which meant that both Flynn and Mason were out by reason of their ages. And that was when Rufus dropped the bomb on them that Jiya had seen him die, in the visions that she had been having ever since she had traveled as the fourth person in the Lifeboat back before its retro-fit.

There wasn't time to absorb all of this, since they had to leave, but the upshot was that Rufus wanted Jiya to get more practice piloting for when he was gone. And though Jiya was obviously not going to accept Rufus' words of doom and gloom, she wasn't against the idea of going with them to the 80s, either.

By the time Lucy and Jiya were pretending to be a couple in order to make sure young police officer Denise Christopher still joined the FBI and married her wife, Lucy was wondering why it had taken her this long to realize that Jiya had joined the group of people she considered her pack. It wasn't at all surprising, considering how much of their lives were now shared and had been for a while now. She'd have to tell her later.

As for the mission, though, Lucy gained more respect for their future boss the more they learned about her. She had not imagined the woman's story could be so moving. But she felt privileged that she and Jiya now got the chance to show this version of her part of what had made Lucy already admire her, in the present. It wasn't too crazy, she prayed, that the hope that those pictures and information gave would outweigh the pressure of knowing what was coming.

And speaking of that, she also hoped that she had made sense while she was trying to encourage Jiya that the future could be changed. In any case, there was no way any of the Time Team was going to give up and accept Rufus dying. That was not an option.

Then, back at the bunker, Wyatt was close to his old self as he shook Agent Christopher's hand. That in and of itself would have been enough to make Lucy smile. Still more emotional was the woman's thanks to her and Jiya. And then to learn that she had a positive, loving relationship with her mother in this timeline... Lucy's heart was full. Of course, the knowledge was also bittersweet, since Lucy didn't think there was much chance she'd ever have that with her own mother. But still. It felt like a definite win for the good guys.

Her feelings grew even more complicated after she'd had a conversation with Flynn about how he'd gotten the journal. He'd insisted that someday, traveling to her own past would not only be possible, it would be something she would choose to do in order to give a devastated Garcia Flynn both hope and a cause to live for. Which... as she left his room, she thought to herself that it wasn't like she wouldn't do that. Hypothetically. She would want to help him not to despair. But it was just hard to contemplate what it would mean if that kind of time travel became possible.

Her dreams that night were confused and hard to follow, but at least she was sleeping. And she woke up better rested than she had in a while. In fact, everyone seemed to be in a vaguely okay mood that morning. Granted, she knew Wyatt would be grieving his image of his wife for a while. That was natural. But he wasn't as tense that morning. He was quiet and grave, sure. Still, he poured her a cup of coffee without her asking.

~~~~~~

Wyatt knew he and Lucy needed to talk more, after the dramatic exit of Jessica from their lives and everything that had followed. She was obviously not going to make the first move toward that. Which made total sense. At the same time, he didn't want to be pushy. She probably needed time to absorb everything.

Before he had a chance to decide what to do, the day's peace was shattered at around lunchtime – and it was in about as dramatic of a way as possible. First, the Mothership alarm sounded. Before anyone could even ask where it was going, there was a familiar whooshing sound from right next to the Lifeboat, and then the Mothership appeared in that spot. Agent Christopher swore, as did Mason. As she pulled out her gun (which Wyatt had done, too), she said what they were all thinking. “Jessica must have somehow gotten our location to Rittenhouse. I'm calling for backup.”

His military training was the only reason Wyatt was able to focus on what needed to be done. Otherwise, the thought of his ex(well, as soon as the papers went through)-wife being responsible for an assault on everyone he cared about would have been enough to knock him on his ass. Instead, he shoved aside those feelings for later. He had to protect them now. His real family.

That meant getting Lucy, Rufus, Jiya, and Mason out of the line of fire. There wasn't time to figure out any perfect arrangement, but they didn't argue when the three more suited to this fight told them to move back to the side hallways, away from the hangar. Lucy, he knew, wasn't likely to go any farther than that. And he didn't blame any of them for wanting to know what was happening, instead of trying to hide without the chance to know anything.

Thankfully for everyone's ability to avoid panicking, Agent Christopher informed both him and Flynn (once the other man got a gun) that she'd put a plan in place in the event of a Rittenhouse assault on the bunker. And after Jessica was revealed to be a traitor, she'd had people on alert, only minutes away. She put her phone away as the Mothership's hatch opened. “They're on their way,” she said, and raised her weapon. “It's just a dozen people I trust, but it'll even our odds, at least.”

Wyatt, Agent Christopher, and Flynn worked together without needing much spoken coordination. Whoever all had arrived in the Mothership started their attack by throwing out a grenade. That meant Wyatt called out a warning and ducked, hoping the others would have the chance to take cover as well.

After that, he didn't have much time to focus on the safety of his friends, as much as he wanted to. The fight needed all of his attention. Besides, they were out of the way. As safe as they could be, for the moment. Besides, the situation didn't seem too hopeless, knowing Christopher's reinforcements would be here soon.

Though he was expecting to see Emma, or possibly Carol or their relative from WWI, Wyatt didn't recognize any of the Rittenhouse operatives he faced. That was odd. For this important of a mission, he would have expected the top brass to be present. There weren't even any Lycanth, as far as he could tell.

Wyatt had just started to worry about his ammo when the doors behind them burst open, and a team of men and women in tactical gear streamed in. He exhaled. Thank God for Agent Christopher.

The sight of their opponents' reinforcements seemed to shock the Rittenhouse group. (Also, he wondered to himself, just how many people could fit inside the Mothership, anyway? There seemed to be significantly more than a dozen on that side.) They fell back under the onslaught. Wyatt, Christopher, and Flynn joined in with renewed energy once they were able to reload their weapons, too. Still, their enemies continued to fight hard. It wasn't long after that point that Wyatt did spot a flash of red hair.

“Emma's here,” Lucy was hissing into his ear before he'd even noticed her getting close enough to talk to him over the noise of the battle. “Did you see her?” She had crept over to the ancient computer terminal he was using as cover.

Clenching his jaw, he nodded. He shouldn't have been surprised, since she was here instead of more safely far away, that the next thing she said was that she wanted to get close enough to Emma that she could use her alpha ability. She wanted to make Emma make the others surrender. And he didn't think he would have much luck arguing against the idea, either.

Sighing, he took a few more shots at their enemies, and then looked back at her. “Okay, but if – _if_ – we're doing this, we need to make sure you're safe.”

“Obviously I want that, too,” said Lucy impatiently. “That's why I'm here, talking to you.” After another pause for him to take another shot, she leaned toward him again. “So? How do I get over to her?”

He thought about it. They probably had the manpower, but they would still need to plan this. He started to try to make his way toward Agent Christopher. He'd have to get her in on this.

Before he made it very far, though, there was another shot from their side. He looked toward the Mothership just in time to watch Emma cry out. She wasn't dead, unfortunately, but she was bleeding from a wound on her shoulder. It was immediately clear that she now wanted to retreat back to the Mothership. When her progress was impeded by one of her own people, she shouted, “Move!” and shoved him aside with her uninjured arm.

“No,” Wyatt heard Lucy say from next to her.

He turned just in time to grab her arm, to keep her from lunging forward after the woman. “Lucy,” he said, “it's not safe!”

She glared and shook his hand off, but didn't try to get up again from where she had been crouching.

“Hey, Lucy!” Emma called out then, over the continuing din. “I know you're here, Princess.” Wyatt watched her fire again, one-armed. “You should know, I'm in charge of Rittenhouse now. Dear old mom and Nicolas just wouldn't quit yammering about blood purity, and how I could never truly understand. So I got rid of that issue.”

Wyatt felt a chill. He knew Emma was evil, but did that really mean – ? When he looked back at Lucy, he could tell by her pale face and wide, blank eyes that she did in fact think Emma meant that Carol Preston was dead. God, he wanted to scoop her up into his arms and take her out of here, somewhere safe, where she wouldn't have to suffer loss after devastating loss. But this still couldn't be the time for anything like that.

Meanwhile, those of them on the anti-Rittenhouse side had picked up the pace and intensity of their attack. It wasn't hard to sense that the invaders were starting to retreat. And if Emma wanted to be able to get back into the Mothership, she was going to have to climb up and put herself at more risk.

Instead of trying that as Wyatt watched, though, Emma continued to stand behind the other remaining Rittenhouse forces. It seemed like she was waiting for something. What, Wyatt didn't know – but he doubted it was anything good.

He was already, constantly very aware of Lucy right next to him, and that Rufus, Jiya, and Connor couldn't be considered out of danger, either. And that was before one of Christopher's people gave a warning shout. Somehow, a couple of the Rittenhouse guys had snuck around the side, which put them behind Rufus, Jiya, and Mason. Thankfully, the same agent who had called out the warning took out one of the threats immediately.

But that was enough for the other guy to open fire. Wyatt's heart dropped, but it didn't look like any of his bunker family had been hit. Next to him, Lucy had made a choked-off sound of fear or anger. Once the same agent on their side started shooting back, forcing the Rittenhouse operative to duck into a doorway, she said, “Oh my God, Wyatt, what are we going to do?”

He didn't answer right away. Part of him – a very hard-to-ignore part – wanted to get himself over to them as quickly he could. But there was only one enemy combatant over there, and the agent who had spotted them seemed to have it under control. “Don't move right now,” he finally told her. “We can't help them if we put ourselves in even more danger.”

While he was still talking, Flynn suddenly shouted, “There she is!”

Wyatt looked where the other man was now focused. It seemed like Emma was making her move to get back into the Mothership. A few of her henchmen were keeping her from being the direct line of fire. Wyatt aimed for her anyway, and squeezed off a shot, cursing under his breath when it glanced off the body armor of one of the guys shielding her.

Emma herself was still firing at them, too. Wyatt was alarmed to realize that her position up higher not only put her at more risk, but it also gave her a better angle to shoot from. A moment after he noticed that, he pulled Lucy down just in time. Gasping, she scooted closer to him, keeping as much out of sight as possible.

He was about to say something to her when there was another shot from the Mothership. It was at a higher angle this time – and when he automatically traced its path to the target, his heart felt like it stopped this time. There had been a grunt, and then a woman's voice screamed. “No!” That was Jiya.

“Rufus!” Lucy shouted, her voice cracking. She tried to stand, but Wyatt wasn't so horrified that he forgot to keep her down. “Wyatt, she shot Rufus!”

“I know,” Wyatt said, his own voice shaking. He turned and fired back, both anger and grief threatening to overwhelm him. But he shoved those emotions back. He still had to focus. He still had to try to protect the others, even if... But he couldn't think about that right now. Still, he did get some satisfaction in taking out one of Emma's guards.

Agent Christopher and Flynn were shooting, too, as well as the other agents. At least one of the agents was bending over Rufus. He thought both Connor and Jiya were, too.

The Rittenhouse forces were reduced to a small clump, now, and Wyatt needed that group to get even smaller. He wanted Emma, now, more than he ever had. And he knew everyone else on their side would agree.

Later, Wyatt would try to remember the sequence that led to it, but some of the details just never resolved. Somehow, not much more than a minute after Rufus was shot, Lucy had quickly made her way toward the center of the hangar and found a gun. By that point, there weren't many Rittenhouse guys left, but Wyatt still could barely breathe as he watched her shoot her way (not very skillfully, of course, she'd never had any weapons training) toward the Mothership.

“Stop!” she yelled, shaking off someone who tried to grab her. “Emma, stop!”

Wyatt could hear the use of her alpha ability, though it wasn't aimed at him. Or had she told him to stay put, before this? _Ordered_ him to do it? Experimentally, he tried to start moving toward her. It was harder than it should be. Still, he could force himself to move, and he did.

Lucy was now at the edge of the Mothership, holding Emma close at gunpoint. “I heard her say she's in charge, now,” she snarled, to the four remaining Rittenhouse guys. “I guess that'll cause some problems when she's taken into custody. Because that's what I'm doing now, and none of you are going to stop me.”

Then she shifted her glare to Emma, and used her alpha ability again. “Now, you start moving – slowly – away from the Mothership and toward Agent Christopher and her team. You're going to surrender yourself. Got it?” When Emma nodded grimly, Lucy looked back at the other enemy soldiers. “And if any of you try anything or hurt my friends, I'll shoot her.”

Emma took one step toward the edge. Then she paused. Wyatt did not like the way her expression changed from angry to calculating. He moved closer, again feeling like it was harder than it should be.

It definitely wasn't fast enough to stop Emma when she suddenly spun around and knocked the gun out of Lucy's hands. Then she punched Lucy hard in the face. The sound seemed to echo in the space of the hangar. “Lucy!” Apparently her command to him wasn't in force anymore, and he rushed forward, desperate to at least catch her before she fell off the Mothership and hit the ground. He wasn't sure he'd get there in time.

Garcia Flynn did. Wyatt hadn't even noticed him getting closer, but somehow he was there to make sure she didn't land in a heap on the ground. As much as Wyatt wanted to bring all of his focus to her now, if he could trust Flynn for anything, it was to keep Lucy safe. So instead he looked to Emma, to the other Rittenhouse guys. The weapons fire was starting up again.

But Emma had taken that moment when everyone was distracted to dash into the Mothership. It didn't even look like she'd let anyone else in with her. The hatch closed. Wyatt swore, but he already knew it was worse than pointless to try to climb up after her. The time machine vanished, with its usual gust of wind, and when it was gone, Agent Christopher and a few of her agents were already arresting the abandoned Rittenhouse soldiers. It was over. But there was no way this could be called a victory.

Flynn was helping a shaky Lucy to the nearest table in the dining area. She wasn't flat-out crying, but there were tears on her already-bruising face. In a shocking contrast to just a minute ago, when chaos had been in full force all around them, it was almost quiet. All that meant, though, was that there was nothing stopping Wyatt from hearing the constant, heartbreaking sound of sobbing from over by the hallway where his friends had been sheltering. He would have known whose voice it was even if he hadn't been able to recognize it. It was Jiya, crying like her world had ended. From what he could see from where he stood, she was in Connor's arms.

“Master Sergeant, you're bleeding.”

Wyatt turned. Agent Christopher was looking at him, exhaustion and grief in her face. “What?”

“I said, you're bleeding, Wyatt,” Denise repeated.

“Your leg,” Lucy said sharply, from where she was sitting several yards away from him. She pointed.

Wyatt looked down. There was a red line on the side of his upper left leg. He hadn't felt anything. He still didn't – not really. “It's just a graze, Lucy,” he said. He didn't say that he'd be fine, though. He just couldn't say those words. Having lost brothers, comrades in arms before, he knew in his head that they could and would survive this. But that didn't mean his heart was intact right now. None of their hearts could be.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had most of this written before I finished the previous chapter, so here we are already! This takes us up to the S2 finale (which will absolutely definitely for sure not be the last we see of this wonderful show!).
> 
> Hope you enjoy it.

~~~~~~

Lucy endured Agent Christopher's quick check of the injury Emma had given her. She wasn't all that surprised to hear that Denise thought she might have a mild concussion. At least she'd heard that Wyatt didn't need stitches for the bullet graze on his leg. That was something.

“Can I sleep, or do I have to stay awake?” Lucy asked, hoping for a negative answer. Sleeping in her wolf form sounded good right now. Honestly, there wasn't anything else she could imagine doing, even though it was still afternoon.

Agent Christopher frowned. “You can rest. I'll make sure someone wakes you up for dinner.”

Lucy didn't bother to say that she didn't think she'd want to eat anything. She just nodded. She took the ibuprofen that the other woman gave her, then stood up. She was a little dizzy, but not too bad. None of this could possibly compare with what Jiya had to be feeling right now, anyway.

Wyatt was waiting outside for her. It looked like he wanted to take her arm, but he held back. “You okay?”

“I'll be fine,” she said. “I'm going to go lie down.” She looked at him. “I... I'm sorry for telling you not to move before I went after Emma.” Closing her eyes for a moment, she sighed. “I thought I could stop her. I don't know why it didn't work.”

“Don't blame yourself.” He didn't seem to be mad at her at all. “Yeah, you shouldn't have kept me from helping you, but none of this is your fault.”

Lucy appreciated the words, though it was hard to believe them. She had lost a member of her pack. She hadn't even stopped the evil woman who killed him. The same woman who had also killed her mother. Oh, God, she really was alone now.

“Are you sure you're okay?” Wyatt looked even more concerned now.

That was probably because she'd been standing there for several seconds without speaking. She sniffed. “I'm, uh, going to go lie down. Like I said.” She was about to turn and suit actions to words when she remembered – saw – that it wasn't just concern for her in his eyes. He was hurting, too. She wasn't the only one who had just lost a packmate.

So she stepped closer to him and pulled him into a hug. It was more difficult than it used to be – Wyatt froze and didn't react immediately, probably since they hadn't touched much since she'd told him to stop. And she herself was a little more reluctant than she had once been. If she kept to herself, it was easier not to feel anything, after all. Still. This was better for both of them. She couldn't really bear to stay away.

And once Wyatt got over his surprise, he tightened his grip and she could feel him start to tremble. Neither of them really broke down – not completely – but when they did separate, both of them had tears in their eyes. Lucy cleared her throat and did her best to stop crying before she would never stop. She felt like she should try to explain something, anything. Nothing came to mind, though, so she ended up just leaving, like she'd been planning to do in the first place.

Thankfully, she fell asleep as soon as she'd transformed and climbed onto her bed. (She would have hidden under it again, but she decided a head injury warranted a softer sleeping place for now.) She didn't remember any dreams.

She did get up and transform again to force herself to eat a few bites of dinner. Sitting with her friends was grimmer than it ever had been, though – no one had anything to say. Jiya's eyes were red and puffy, and she left the table after no more than five minutes. Connor didn't stay much longer than that.

Flynn asked Lucy how her head was feeling (it was a little better), and told her that his minor shoulder injury from the battle wasn't too bad. But that was about as much conversation as anyone seemed to be able to handle. She went to bed early, about an hour after dinner. And she doubted anyone else stayed up doing much of anything.

The next day began with everyone in similarly grim moods, which was depressing in and of itself. Before she had left last night, Agent Christopher had mentioned the possibility of a meeting about moving to a new place, since this location was compromised. So Lucy got ready for the day with the dull feeling that this was the only thing to look forward to about the day. There might be some good things about moving, she guessed.

In fact, Agent Christopher announced quickly that they were moving – as soon as everyone could get ready. Apparently, they were going to a secure safe house out in the middle of nowhere somewhere, with an adjoining barn big enough to fit the Lifeboat. Christopher assured them that the place was a little bigger than the bunker – plus, though they still wouldn't be allowed to go outside at least at first, it was still above ground. Despite her gloom and grief, that definitely qualified as good news to Lucy.

No one had that much to pack – and none of them was going to miss this place much, especially after Jessica's betrayal and... Rufus. So, preparations didn't take much time. Once the Homeland Security crew had arrived to start the Lifeboat on its way, the remainder of the Time Team took their leave.

Lucy wished it made any sense to transform for the trip. Instead, though, she just dozed on and off, staring out the tinted window of the government-issued SUV. Several times, she caught herself thinking about how excited Rufus would be to be leaving the bunker for something non-mission-related, and each time it was like a physical blow.

Their new accommodations turned out to be a large, one-story farmhouse. Agent Christopher hadn't been exaggerating when she'd described it as in the middle of nowhere. There was a bank of trees on one side, and Lucy was pretty sure they'd driven through at least one mountain range to get there. For a moment, when they got out of the cars, the desire to run through that forest in wolf form was so strong that Lucy almost reached for her Morfex patch. But she gave herself a mental shake. That was crazy.

Inside the house, Lucy was relieved to have her own room in which to unpack her few small bags (they each had their own). And the bed, though still a twin, was an actual bed instead of a cot. It was old, and the sheets smelled faintly musty, but they were clean. Besides, there was an actual window that showed the actual outside – though it was locked and barred, which spoiled the effect a little.

Still. It was an improvement. After setting her stuff down, she joined the others for a tour of the rest of the place. There were also two full bathrooms, and an actual kitchen complete with a dishwasher. Plus, there were two couches and a flatscreen TV. Connor and Jiya's workspace was in the barn next to where the Lifeboat would be in the next hour or so, once that truck arrived. The two of them pronounced it fine, before the tour was over.

Some hours later, there still wasn't a lot of activity going on in the house. Lucy had made herself a peanut butter sandwich and was trying to convince herself to eat it. She also found an ice pack. So she sat down on the couch with the ice pack to her face and her plate of food on her lap. She had only managed a few bites when Wyatt joined her.

Sitting down in the easy chair opposite her, he said, “How are you feeling?”

She shrugged. “I haven't taken any of the heavy-duty painkillers today. Just Tylenol, and that's enough. So, a little better.”

“That's good.”

Nodding slightly, Lucy asked inanely about his scrape, which he said was fine. And then she thought she felt a faint vibration in the ground – and then there was a loud alarm echoing through the house. For a moment, Lucy was absolutely sure the Mothership had somehow come back to torment them again. Maybe they had waited too long to leave the bunker, after all. She and Wyatt exchanged a fearful look before scrambling to their feet, as Agent Christopher rushed in and called them to the barn immediately.

It wasn't the Mothership. It was... there were now two Lifeboats squeezed into the open space of the barn. She, Wyatt, and the others gathered quickly to stare at the latest arrival. Was it even a threat? The Lifeboat never had been before. Either way, Wyatt and Agent Christopher had their guns out before the hatch opened. But no, it was... it was _Wyatt_ stepping out, though he had a beard like she'd never seen. And Lucy felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck as the second person, impossibly, came out of that impossible second Lifeboat. It was _her_. She was there – and here, at the same time. And then the other Lucy said, “You guys wanna get Rufus back, or what?” and she felt her legs go numb.

She caught herself before anything happened. This was too important. “How...” she tried to say, and then had to clear her throat. She glanced at Wyatt – the Wyatt without the beard, the one standing next to her – who looked just as thunderstruck. “How are you even here?”

“Lifeboat's been upgraded. It took Jiya and Mason years to get it right, but now here we are,” said Wyatt. The other Wyatt. He jumped down out of the Lifeboat, and reached up a hand to help Lucy down. Short-haired Lucy. The movement was easy and natural. Apparently even though short-haired Lucy looked pretty badass, she didn't mind accepting Wyatt's help.

It wasn't until the two of them were a yard or two away that Lucy felt her adrenaline spike out of nowhere. Before she even had time to think, she had snapped out a command, in a low, dangerous voice she barely recognized as her own. “Stop.”

Both the other Wyatt and Lucy froze. Short-haired Lucy narrowed her eyes. “What are you doing?” Her voice was just as hard and cold.

“Whoa,” Agent Christopher's voice cut in. “I don't know what's going on here, but I don't like it.”

Lucy barely heard her. Her gaze hadn't left her double's. “You expect me to let you invade _my_ territory, come toward _my_ pack armed to the teeth?”

“Lucy –” her Wyatt started to say.

“Stay out of this,” she snarled, reinforcing the order with her alpha ability. She had still not broken eye contact with the other Lucy. Which did allow her to see the other Wyatt gulp at the command.

“You're not exactly going to stop me,” the other Lucy was saying now, a touch of superiority in her tone. “I have years of training in hand-to-hand combat on my side, and anyway, you just got beaten up less than 24 hours ago.”

“I don't need combat training,” Lucy said, though a part of her was very interested in that fact. “I can take you, wolf to wolf.”

Short-haired Lucy bared her teeth. “Oh you can, can you?”

“Okay, can I just stop you, both of you, right now?” Jiya was suddenly inches away. She wasn't exactly putting herself between them, but she was close. “How is any of this, whatever this is, helping save Rufus?”

Lucy blinked, all the anger and distrust falling away as quickly as if Jiya had thrown a bucket of water over her head. “Oh my God.”

The other Lucy was blinking, too. She put up a shaking hand and ran it through her hair. “Holy shit.”

Agent Christopher was looking between the two of them now, her face pale. “Are you back with us now?”

“Yes,” said Lucy. “God, I – I don't know what that was, but I'm sorry.”

“Me, too,” the other Lucy said quickly. She was blushing.

Lucy was, too, she felt. “Sorry, Wyatt.” She turned to her... well, the non-bearded Wyatt. “Sorry.”

He swallowed, but nodded. “It's fine. I'm fine. But that was... really intense.”

“I've seen police standoffs less intense,” said Agent Christopher.

Flynn made a sound like a combination of a laugh and a scoff, and Mason muttered something under his breath that probably contained a lot of cursing.

“Okay, well,” the short-haired Lucy said, taking a deep breath, “uh, let's hope whatever that weird alpha thing was, it's done for good. Thanks for – for breaking the spell, Jiya.”

Jiya gave one nod. “Uh, sure. So can we get to how the hell you being here is possible, now, and how we're going to save Rufus?”

“Yeah. We have something for you,” said the other Wyatt. He pulled a phone out of one of the pockets of the pants he was wearing. “Jiya – uh, our Jiya said this should have enough information to get you and Mason going.” He held it out for her. “There's also stuff about your visions she said you'd find pretty interesting.”

She took it. “Thanks.”

“Unless there's something else pressing,” Agent Christopher said then, “could the rest of us get a real explanation now?”

The other Wyatt and Lucy looked at each other.

“Or is that going to break some sort of new time travel rule?” Denise added, when there was no response.

“We're trying not to reveal too much about your futures,” short-haired Lucy said. “Sorry.”

But now that Lucy had snapped out of the bizarre, instinctive reaction she'd had to another instance of herself, she was noticing quite a bit about this pair. They might not want to come out and tell those from this timeline much, and she respected and immediately understood that. Yet they also had to know that she and non-bearded Wyatt (there had to be a better way of thinking about them in her head, didn't there?) would be able to detect a number of things that their friends couldn't.

The most inescapable of these was the way their scents were all over each other. So much so that Lucy had to assume they had been, well, all over each other as recently as just before they'd stepped out of the Lifeboat. (Which... was not exactly something she had imagined doing. Recently.) And when she glanced at present-day Wyatt (damn it, that wasn't any quicker to say or think), she had a strong feeling he'd gotten the same impression. There was a faint blush on his cheeks, and he was avoiding looking at her so obviously that it was the same as if he were staring straight into her eyes.

But if she'd thought _that_ was awkward, it was nothing to when her glance happened to flit to Future Wyatt after noticing that fact. He met her eyes very deliberately, that smirk of his not at all hidden by the beard, and then winked. Lucy tried not to choke. That was such a Wyatt thing to do.

And then Present-day Wyatt tensed next to her. Oh, God, he'd seen it. Was he jealous of himself now? This was insane.

“As entertaining as it is to watch you four,” Flynn interjected then, “I assume there is some reason you – I'm referring to the future versions of you – bothered to come in person, instead of leaving that phone somewhere we would find it.”

“There is,” said short-haired Lucy, with a quick frown at her Wyatt. (That description was definitely accurate.) “Even once we get started upgrading the Lifeboat – your Lifeboat, actually going and getting Rufus is going to be complicated. You'll need backup, and it doesn't make sense for us to take the time for your Lucy and Wyatt to learn the kind of piloting that we'll have to do.”

“All right, well, do we at least get to hear your plan for how this is going to go? Because as much as I want to save Rufus, I'm not signing off on a mission just because you two are Wyatt and Lucy from our future.” Agent Christopher was still obviously adjusting to this, but her words were no less firm.

“Of course,” that Lucy agreed. “We only have one shot at this, so we want everyone to understand as clearly as we do.”

~~~~~~

Two hours later, the briefing was over, and Lucy was standing in almost the same place she had been after the new Lifeboat had first appeared. The briefing itself had been almost as mind-blowing as the second Lifeboat's appearance. Their future counterparts had pointed out that if they were to go back to the bunker invasion, that would mean three time machines in one location. Apparently Jiya and Connor from the future had determined that the paradox risk of that situation was too high, even apart from the fact that there just wasn't that much room inside the bunker. So Future Wyatt and Lucy would be making an already-complicated maneuver vastly more complicated by literally having the future Lifeboat land _inside_ the one that would be there already in the past – meaning it would occupy that same space.

Lucy didn't pretend to understand it, and both Wyatt and Lucy of the future admitted they didn't understand all the details, either. But apparently there was some kind of lever or button or something that had to be engaged at all times while the future Lifeboat was doing this impossible space-sharing thing. So someone, one of that future pair, needed to stay inside the whole time they were working to save Rufus. There was more to it, of course, but those were the most salient points.

It was a lot to take in. Lucy felt jittery, on edge, as if she'd had a half dozen cups of coffee that morning instead of her usual one or two. She wanted to retreat and try to get a handle on things. Her own room was a better option for that than her old room that was shared with Jiya. But she still doubted she would be allowed to be by herself for long.

It was worth a shot, though. She turned from the still-unbelievable sight of the two time machines and left the barn. She was on her way back to her room when she met herself coming. Gulping, she clasped her hands together and made as if to move out of the way.

“No, wait, actually I was looking for you,” short-haired Lucy said.

“You were?” Lucy stared at her. “Why? It's not like we can have a heart-to-heart, right?”

The other her laughed. “I know, believe me. I just have a few things I can't _not_ tell you. And now is as good of a time as any.”

“Um,” said Lucy. “Okay.”

The other Lucy led her to her room and closed the door. “Okay. First of all, I'm sorry, again, about the alpha thing earlier.”

Lucy blew out a breath. “Yeah, that was weird. But I guess it was probably the first time that exact situation has ever happened, so how could either of us know?”

Nodding, short-haired Lucy sat down at the foot of the bed. “Still. That was not exactly the impression Wyatt and I wanted to make. Anyway. What I really want to tell you is that you're wrong.”

“I – what?” Lucy blinked. “Wrong about what?” Lacking another option, she crossed her arms and sat down toward the head of the bed, facing herself.

“You're wrong, when you try to convince yourself that you never should have taken the leap to be with Wyatt in the first place. And when you try to tell yourself that he doesn't really know what he's feeling now, that he can't be sure he really meant what he told you the night before Jessica tried to kidnap Jiya.” She leaned forward. “So stop believing you don't deserve happiness.”

Lucy made an involuntary sound as she tried not to sob. Of course it made sense that another Lucy could cut right to the quick, but she hadn't been prepared for this. She put a hand over her mouth and tried to get herself under control.

“I'm sorry,” the other Lucy said quietly. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears. “I know – I _know_ – how completely, overwhelmingly awful everything is for you right now.” She shook her head. “But you will make it through. And I want to suggest that Wyatt can actually, genuinely help you through it, if you let him. I mean, don't get me wrong – he's got stuff to work out, too, and you should feel absolutely free to make him grovel.” She lifted a corner of her mouth.

Lucy managed a watery laugh. She wiped her eyes, wincing when her hand contacted the bruises on her face. “Anything else?” she asked, once her voice was steady enough.

“So many things, but I shouldn't,” short-haired Lucy said. “You'll make it, though, like I said.”

She meant it, Lucy could tell. So she herself would do her best to believe it.

~~~~~~~

Wyatt had the odd feeling that he was missing something, something that was happening right then that he should know about. The house was quiet. Everyone had dispersed after the other Wyatt and Lucy had finished describing their plan. He didn't think he was the only one of their group who felt nervous about hanging around with the duo from the future. What were they even supposed to talk about, if those two weren't going to give away anything about where – _when_ – they were from?

So when Wyatt came around the corner and saw the other Wyatt (and what the hell was with that beard, anyway?) sitting at the table in the dining area, the other Lucy nowhere to be seen, he paused. Future Wyatt was drinking a cup of coffee. He looked relaxed, at home, even. It kind of bothered him, to be honest.

“You know, all I'm doing is drinking coffee, but if you really want to keep watching me, that's fine,” the other Wyatt said then.

Wyatt sighed and then came into the room, pouring himself a cup and eventually deciding to sit down opposite his future self. “It just didn't seem like there was any point in chatting, since you're not going to tell me anything, anyway.”

“Oh, there actually is something I have to say,” Future Wyatt said. He took another drink. “This is worth bending the rules a little.”

His heart rate speeding up, Wyatt gripped his own mug tighter. “Okay.”

“You remember when Rufus said Lucy would cut off a limb for you, for us, if she thought it would make you happy?” The other Wyatt's face was sober, and there was grief in his eyes.

Wyatt nodded, his own grief and guilt too strong for anything else.

“Well, the only way he was wrong about that was that she already had, by the time he said it. And you – we let her do it. Let her think that was what we wanted.” Future Wyatt stared down at his cup before meeting his double's eyes. “And at this point that wound has barely had any time to start healing. So you're going to need patience. And determination. You're going to need to make it your number one goal every day to prove to her that you want her to be happy even more than you want to share that happiness with her.”

Wyatt swallowed. He hadn't needed this cup of coffee, and the way it was churning in his stomach now made him wish he'd passed on it. “I already know that,” he gritted.

But the other Wyatt just huffed out something like a laugh. “I know. I'm just saying, don't give up. And because I know you need to hear it and not just, uh, notice in other ways, I'm also telling you: it'll pay off, eventually.” At that, he grinned.

The satisfaction in his expression was enough to make Wyatt look away and take a drink of coffee. He was right (of course) that it was good to have some confirmation that wasn't just from body language and scents that his and Lucy's future selves were together. But it also hurt. Because “eventually” seemed far away. And right now, in the meantime... with Rufus gone, everything felt a hundred times worse.

“Hey, we didn't give up – none of us – even without Rufus around. And it's been _years_ ,” the other Wyatt pointed out. “So I know you can figure it out.”

Wyatt didn't have to imagine how it would feel to not even have the hope of getting Rufus back, since he had been right in the middle of that agony less than a day ago. Hope, along with an actual plan? It was definitely better. He nodded. “Uh, thanks.”

“Don't mention it,” said the other Wyatt. “But don't forget, either.”

He was still mulling over his future self's words, the other Wyatt gone, when he heard footsteps behind him. He knew it was Lucy before he turned around. Though it did take seeing her, bruising on her face and long hair partly pulled back, for him to be sure it was Present-day Lucy. “Hi,” he said, and then he saw the traces of tears on her cheeks. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Just, um, had a talk with myself.” Taking a deep breath, she tried for a smile. “Which was a little more direct and blunt than I usually am.”

Wyatt raised his eyebrows. “Seriously? I wonder if they planned this. Because that's what I was just doing, too.”

“Oh.” Lucy clasped her hands together. “Was it a good talk?”

“I think so,” he said slowly. “Yours?”

“Um, yeah, I guess it was.” She sighed. “It's a little... awkward, though, right? Watching them? Even if you and I are the only ones who can tell?”

He didn't need her to explain what she meant. “We might be the only ones who know for sure, but I wouldn't say those two are trying very hard to hide. So yeah, either way, it's a little awkward.”

She looked at him for a few seconds before once again breaking into something resembling a smile. “It could be worse, though.”

Now he kind of wanted her to explain that comment, but he decided he'd just go with his own interpretation. “Yeah.” He met her gaze. It would be much worse if their future selves were emotionless with each other, or somehow still sad and hesitant. And he didn't think he was just fooling himself that she was thinking along exactly the same lines.

~~~~~~


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Hopefully people are still reading this. I'm definitely still writing it!

~~~~~~

Just about two days after the bunker invasion, Lucy couldn't believe she was getting ready to climb into the Lifeboat from the future, with Wyatt and the other two of them. It seemed like she was spending an inordinate amount of time being incredulous about what was happening in her life. Not that unbelievable things were all that new for an existence that featured time travel, but still.

The point was, this mission was a lot crazier than most of their jumps. Everyone knew it. Their future counterparts reassured them all that they had actually practiced this kind of maneuver before – landing their Lifeboat in the 'Present-day' Lifeboat in the bunker once when they were sure no one from that timeline would be awake to notice anything. Yet it wasn't hard to tell that short-haired Lucy and bearded Wyatt were still nervous. There was so much riding on this.

But Jiya and Connor – their versions – had read through all of the materials Future Wyatt and Lucy had brought with them. And they had said everything checked out, so far as they could tell. Plus, the very fact of how important this was meant that their future selves wouldn't have risked it if they hadn't been sure it could succeed. At least, that was what Lucy had told herself (actually just herself, mentally, not in another conversation with the short-haired version of herself) as she got dressed that morning.

Jiya gave Lucy and Wyatt a hug as they stood in front of the 'new' Lifeboat. “Good luck,” she said. Swallowing, she stepped back, clearly trying not to break down. Then she looked at Future Lucy and Wyatt. “And good luck to you, too.”

Both of them smiled. “Thanks.”

“Assuming this works,” Flynn said then, “do we know how our Wyatt and Lucy will get back? Won't there be a paradox, that you would never have come back here if Rufus is already saved?”

Lucy blinked, and looked at Wyatt (non-bearded Wyatt). She hadn't even thought of that.

But the other Lucy was already answering. “Our Jiya and Connor told us that was part of the package, with traveling back to your own timeline.”

Their Connor nodded. “Yes, in a situation where you meet yourselves in your own past, there's no way to avoid the paradox. So my own future counterpart's work with Jiya would have been forced to take that into account.”

“So we probably _won't_ be stuck back in the bunker before the Rittenhouse attack, with our past selves, is what you're saying?” Wyatt asked.

Future Wyatt scoffed. “Probably not, yeah.”

Flynn seemed satisfied. “Good. I wasn't looking forward to going from two Lifeboats to zero, or double the Lucy and Wyatt to none, either.”

Lucy adjusted the tactical gear she was wearing. It still felt weird, but she had to admit it was a good plan, for the three of them who were actually leaving the Lifeboat to disguise themselves as some of Agent Christopher's reinforcements. They were also wearing enough perfume, strategically applied, to keep any other Lycanth from noticing who and what they were. Plus, another bonus of wearing body armor was that it would of course also offer them some protection. (She also had to admit, privately, that Wyatt – well, both Wyatts – looked good in it. Really good.)

“Well, you'd better get going,” said Agent Christopher. “And when you come back, none of us will even know Rufus was ever gone.”

“Yes, ma'am,” said Future Wyatt, determined.

As they climbed in and closed the hatch, Lucy was distracted from her nerves by the mind-boggling sight of her future self sitting down in the pilot's seat of the future Lifeboat. Of course it would have had to be one of them, but actually seeing it was still amazing.

“We can both pilot this thing, by the way,” said the Wyatt who was currently getting himself settled in the seat nearest to that Lucy.

He must have noticed her staring. Or well, both of them, she realized, when she saw Present-day Wyatt nod.

“But since I'm staying in here, it makes sense for me to be the one flying, too. I'll be stuck at the control panel anyway.” The other Lucy sounded only faintly annoyed.

“Which is completely, 100% necessary, and I still have a lot more battle experience than you, so it makes sense that I'm the one going back into this fight,” Bearded Wyatt said smoothly, as if they'd had this discussion before. Which they must have.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Short-haired Lucy, and then she started to flip switches and toggle the things that Lucy had only ever seen Rufus deal with. “Anyway. Hold on, everyone.”

Lucy met the eyes of the Wyatt sitting close to her (her Wyatt, as her traitorous heart tried to point out would be a simpler epithet). He gave her a tight but genuine smile, which she tried to return. Then she closed her eyes as the jump began.

Neither the trip nor the landing seemed any worse than usual, though. Bearded Wyatt undid his seatbelt, and said, “Remember, we have to not wake up – well, wake ourselves up. The attack won't happen for another few hours.”

“Yeah, we all remember,” said Present-day Wyatt. “Hasn't been that long, for us.”

Lucy was just glad that this plan didn't involve waiting around for hours inside the Lifeboat. There was no way she could have stayed sane for that. (Even Future Lucy had brought a tablet with a long book, in hopes of distracting herself.) Instead of them all waiting around, the Future Time Team had figured out how the three of them could break out of the bunker without setting off any alarms. They would wait outside, out of sight, until Agent Christopher's reinforcements arrived. Then they would plan to make their way back in as part of that group. Future Denise had ensured they had ID that would hold up if anyone cared to look, but they didn't figure anyone would.

“Good luck,” said Future Lucy. Her eyes met Future Wyatt's. “Stay safe.”

That Wyatt nodded. “You, too.”

The air was thick with everything they weren't saying to each other, but Lucy appreciated their restraint. It was beginning to occur to her that waiting for a few hours with more than one Wyatt was going to be awkward and strange. At least she wouldn't have to do it after watching her future self kiss one of them. Still, the image of Short-haired Lucy staring after them as they left wasn't one that was going to fade quickly.

Being back in the bunker was weird, even after such a short time away. It was especially creepy to be sneaking around knowing that if anyone woke up, it could create a dangerous paradox. Even knowing that, thought, Lucy kind of just wanted to march right to where Rufus was currently asleep, and have Wyatt (maybe both of them) grab their friend and take him away so that he couldn't be hurt.

Instead, though, they crept through the silent halls until they reached the exit. Future Wyatt took out the electronic lock-picking gadget that he had brought with him and attached it to the panel. The door opened – not silently, since it was too old for that – but without any alarms.

Lucy breathed easier as soon as they exited. It wasn't a very beautiful place, but it was outside. Future Wyatt led them directly to the spot where they would be waiting. That, too, wasn't very exciting: it was just a drop-off to one side of the gravel road that led to the bunker. There were a few bushes there that would help them hide.

Wishing she wasn't wearing bulky body armor, Lucy followed the Wyatts down the incline – and promptly slipped and almost fell. Both Wyatts reached to catch her, although Future Wyatt happened to be closer. “Whoa, careful,” he said.

Blushing, Lucy nodded. “Thanks.” He let go of her arm as soon as she was steady on her feet again.

“Of course, ma'am,” he said.

Very studiously not looking at Present-day Wyatt, she nodded again. There was nothing at all that she could think of to say. She hadn't heard Wyatt call her that in what seemed like too long.

“So,” Future Wyatt said, as they all sat down on the hard ground, “I'm guessing it's not just me who thinks sitting here for a few hours is going to get awkward real quick.”

Now Lucy glanced at Present-day Wyatt, who already looked uncomfortable. He cleared his throat, and then said, “Yeah.”

“Yeah, Lucy and I talked about it while we were making this plan. We didn't come up with any good way to pass the time. Which would be unfortunate, except I came up with one on my own, that she doesn't know about,” said the other Wyatt.

Lucy frowned. “Why doesn't she know about it?”

“Because she wouldn't want to talk about this. She shuts me down, every time. But I want to use this time to talk about how to get Amy back,” he said.

Lucy's hand flew up to where her necklace was, though she couldn't actually reach it through the body armor. “Emma said she made that impossible,” she said, and her voice didn't crack, but it almost did.

“Emma doesn't know about traveling back on your own timeline,” was that Wyatt's immediate response. Then he looked away for a moment, before meeting her eyes again. “Of course we can't be sure that it'll work. But I've been thinking about our first mission. What if we go back, and get it right? Make sure Flynn doesn't stop the Hindenburg from exploding like it was supposed to?”

“'We'?” Present-day Wyatt asked. He looked skeptical. “You mean, all four of us again?”

“I don't think so. Hell, I don't even know if we'll just – stop existing, to you two,” said Future Wyatt, running a hand over his beard. “Nah, I guess it would have to be you two. Sometime after Rufus is back and safe, obviously.”

Lucy swallowed. She had all but stopped hoping. The idea of having not just a faint hope, but the beginnings of a plan, was more painful than she had imagined it could be. She couldn't speak.

Wyatt – Present-day Wyatt – gave her a concerned look. “And what if it doesn't work?”

“My hope is that going back to that point would be far enough back that it would undo anything Emma's gotten the chance to do,” he said. “Maybe you can ask Rufus what he thinks about that. I'm not great with thinking through all the possibly outcomes of that kind of paradox stuff.”

“But it might not work. We can't know.” Lucy found her voice again finally. Suddenly she was angry. “You said I – she – shuts you down every time you try to talk about this. Don't you think that's a good enough reason not to? Why did you have to talk to _me_ about it?” Damn it, now her voice was cracking. “What if I didn't want my hopes built up again?”

His face fell, and she saw pain in his eyes, too. “I know you don't. And I don't want to hurt you. But...” He sighed. It looked like Present-day Wyatt was about to jump in, but he continued firmly, “Look, without saying too much, hope has been in pretty short supply for us. Getting Rufus back will help, but you deserve something genuinely good, just for you.”

Lucy sniffed. “And you've decided for me, that I need to try this crazy idea to get my sister back.”

“I didn't decide anything for you!” he shot back. “It's an idea. I can't force you to act on it – and I'm betting _he_ won't try, either.” He nodded toward his counterpart.

“Of course I wouldn't force you to do anything!” Present-day Wyatt looked insulted (which was ridiculous, if she thought about it at all, which she definitely wasn't doing because she was upset with him. Well, future him. God, this was confusing). 

“But you did force me. I can't _not_ think about it, now,” she told Future Wyatt, blinking away the tears that were threatening.

He gave her a stubborn look that was very familiar, even despite the beard obscuring part of his face. “I know. And like I said, I don't want to hurt you. I'm sorry for that. But I think talking about this is the right thing to do. That way, at least you won't be left wondering if there was something else you could have done.”

She crossed her arms. Forget awkward. Having two Wyatts here was starting to be twice as infuriating as one could be.

“And I don't think I could have forgiven myself if I never told you this idea,” he added, softer this time.

“So you sneak it in by blindsiding this Lucy, instead?” Present-day Wyatt asked, with a glare.

It was her turn to sigh, before Future Wyatt could respond. “Whatever. It's done now.” She sat back. “Have you thought about any other details? How would we actually stop Flynn? We can't kill him.”

Present-day Wyatt muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “Why not?”

Future Wyatt looked amused at that, but all he said was, “Maybe we – you – knock him out, then tie him up.”

“Yeah, sure, but we have to make sure that actually happens,” Present-day Wyatt said. “That can't be the whole plan.”

“Definitely not,” said Lucy. Then she had a thought. “I wonder... Would it make sense to try bringing Flynn along? I mean, our Flynn? He'd know what his past self was thinking and planning better than anyone.” Neither Wyatt looked thrilled about the idea. What a surprise, she thought, huffing out a breath.

Present-day Wyatt spoke up first. “We have no idea what he'd even think about this plan.”

“I think I do, though,” Lucy said. “He apologized to me, while we were on the mission with Connor. The one you didn't go on. He said he was sorry and he never meant for – for that to happen to Amy.”

Now both Wyatts looked taken aback, although she thought Future Wyatt might have found that a little less unexpected. Present-day Wyatt frowned, but he eventually nodded. “Okay. Then we probably should at least ask Flynn what he'd do if he were planning to stop himself.”

“Huh. I'm kind of curious now.” Future Wyatt cracked a small smile. “It's not like Flynn ever... reminisces about his past.”

Lucy decided not to go into details about how he had, in fact, reminisced with her in that car back in 1936. She didn't really want to have two jealous Wyatts to deal with. Instead, she just said. “Anything else we should talk about now, in terms of planning?”

“Well, it's obvious, but I'm just going to say it, anyway: we can't let our past selves see us at all. We can't let past Rufus record anything about the possibility of traveling back to our own timelines.” That was Present-day Wyatt.

Lucy shuddered. “Definitely not.”

“And we can't let past Flynn know that's possible, either,” Future Wyatt added.

They only came up with a few other things to discuss, and then silence fell. Lucy still had at least a hundred things she wanted to know, but she knew she couldn't ask them. And it was impossible to really enjoy being outside, either, knowing what they were about to do. But she did her best to relax, at least for now. They still had more than an hour to go. It would be less than helpful if she spent that whole time worrying.

After a few minutes, she yawned, and then was immediately embarrassed. “Sorry.”

Present-day Wyatt chuckled. “Sorry for what?” Then he looked more serious. “It's not surprising that you're tired. And not something to be embarrassed about, either.”

Lucy shrugged. “I guess not. It just seems ridiculous, like I'm bored.”

“Waiting is boring, even when it's waiting for combat.” Future Wyatt stretched out his arms behind his head for a moment.

“Okay, sure, but...” She trailed off. What really was boring was arguing something as pointless as this, especially when no one thought she was actually in the wrong. She gave up.

There was another period of silence. Then Lucy yawned again, though she had tried not to. She didn't apologize this time, though her cheeks reddened.

Present-day Wyatt looked almost uncertain this time, though. He cleared his throat. “Do you think you'd be able to fall asleep for a little while, Lucy?”

Frowning, she stared at him. “Well, probably if I was lying down somewhere comfortable. But I'm not, so no.”

“What if you leaned on me?”

Lucy blinked. Then she had a vivid flash of him saying something similar, in the trunk of Wendell Scott's car, and the memory made her breath catch in her throat. She couldn't. Not now. Not after... everything.

Whatever was on her face must have communicated without her having to say anything, because Wyatt quickly said, “Sorry. I shouldn't have asked. Bad idea. Forget it.”

Still shaken by the conflicting emotions his offer had inspired, Lucy just nodded, not meeting his eyes. She knew he'd meant it out of genuine kindness, but it was too much. If they'd both been in wolf form... But they couldn't be right now, so that didn't matter.

The silence that followed that interaction was much more awkward than before. Lucy even briefly considered changing her mind and accepting Wyatt's offer, but she knew that would not be a good idea. She hadn't been wrong about that.

She was also still tired, in spite of all that. Bringing her knees up to her chest, she tried to lean on them. Of course, that barely qualified as resembling comfortable, especially while wearing body armor.

When it was time for the actual mission to start, Lucy spared just a second to wish there had been a non-awkward way to take Wyatt up on his offer – or to rest somehow, anyway. She did not feel anywhere near ready to literally relive the raid that had killed Rufus. She knew they had a plan, and it was as good of a plan as they were going to get. But that wasn't a lot of comfort at the moment. There was so much that could go wrong.

“So. We all know what we're doing.” Future Wyatt didn't make it a question. “And it has to work.”

Present-day Wyatt nodded. “For Rufus.”

Lucy took a deep breath. Rufus had to be her focus. Their focus. And it did have to work. They needed Rufus to be back. Jiya was counting on them. Everyone was. “Yeah.”

Still, as they carefully joined the group of agents, Lucy had to struggle to keep herself from thinking about all the possible problems. This was so far out of the realm of anything she felt confident in. So instead she repeated all the steps she knew she needed to follow, and kept her eyes on Wyatt. Both of them, as much as possible.

It turned out she still hated being in the middle of that firefight, though. She had her (borrowed) gun out, and at least she knew enough not to get in anyone's way. That was easy enough when their plan had her heading toward the hallway where she herself had hid with Rufus and the other non-fighters, the first time around. All she had to do was make sure no one recognized her, and then shout the alarm as soon as the Rittenhouse forces snuck around to there.

Which she did. Thankfully, no one seemed to have noticed anything strange about her before then, and when she sounded the alarm (and she was pretty sure that was earlier than it had happened before), everyone was still more focused on the danger than on the person who had announced it. And so the two Rittenhouse agents were taken out quickly. She kept close, but not too close, to the group that was sheltering there.

Of course that was when things had started to spiral out of control before. But things were also already different – there was concentrated fire at the Rittenhouse guys who had shielded Emma on her way back to the Mothership, thanks to Wyatt. Well, thanks to both Wyatts who weren't from the timeline they had traveled to. “She's getting away!” Flynn shouted.

“Look out!” Lucy called, a minute later, as she saw Emma climb up onto the Mothership's small ledge. “You three, duck down!” She made sure Connor, Jiya, and Rufus had heard her. There wasn't time for the terror she felt to really take hold. They just had to keep their friend alive.

Emma still hadn't been taken out, though. (Lucy knew their future selves had planned to disable but not kill her, fearing too much timeline change if Rufus was saved but Emma was killed.) Lucy could still see her standing at the door of the Mothership. From what Lucy could tell, she wasn't hurt badly enough to want to leave yet, either. Though all Agent Christopher's people were trying their hardest.

“Keep back!” she yelled again, to her friends. “Emma's trying to shoot this direction.” Again, she had to make sure they heard her without recognizing her.

They did move back. Would it be enough? Lucy considered moving to stand in front of them, to make absolutely sure. But Wyatt – Present-day Wyatt – had told her in no uncertain terms while they were talking this through at the farmhouse that they needed to keep their profiles low. And he'd added a specific plea for her not to do anything reckless, saying that what she'd already done the first time around was more than enough.

Another shot echoed in the bunker, close, too close, and was that Rufus making a sound of pain? Again, in spite of everything? But when she looked again, heart in her throat, she saw a worried Jiya and Mason bending over a very much alive and grimacing Rufus. Who, it looked like, had an injured hand. And that seemed to be it.

She heard herself, the past version, say something in an anguished tone to the Wyatt of that timeline. But Rufus wasn't dead. Hopefully that version of her could tell, too. Although who could say how that would change her actions – or not change them.

It didn't look like it stopped her from going after Emma. Lucy wasn't close enough to follow everything that happened this time. She had to join in with the rest of Christopher's agents for a few minutes, or risk extra attention. When she next had the chance, though, she checked again to make sure Rufus and the others were okay, and then pushed forward toward the Mothership. It didn't take long to realize she wasn't going to make enough progress in time to do anything useful.

However, as one of Christopher's agents injured and then disarmed a Rittenhouse guy near her, she happened to overhear something that immediately got her attention. “You know you're not going to be able to stop her, right? Even with your precious traitor bitch trying right now?”

“What are you talking about?” Lucy said, stepping closer but staying behind him so he couldn't see her.

“Don't bother,” said the agent, reaching for his handcuffs. “These guys will say anything.”

“Emma isn't stupid. She came prepared this time, so your Lucy Preston's going to have a nasty surprise if she tries to order the boss around.”

“What surprise?” Lucy asked.

“The traitor's going to have a hard time getting her to _listen_ , is all I'm saying,” the man said, before the other agent dragged him away.

There wasn't much left to do, after that. She filed away that conversation for when she had time to figure it out, and then looked up just in time to see her past self get shoved off the edge of the Mothership. That was interesting. Emma seemed too injured to hit her, but she was still able to try. Flynn still caught her, though. And the Mothership still vanished a moment after.

Part of her thought: that's it. It's over. We did it. But Lucy couldn't let herself get carried away. The four of them from the future still needed to make a discreet exit, if at all possible. They had decided they were willing to reveal themselves to the bunker residents if necessary, as long as no Rittenhouse agents were there to find out.

So, as the scene started to wind down, Lucy surreptitiously made her way closer to the two Wyatts. One of them – Present-day Wyatt, she saw – was moving like he was in pain. He was hiding it, but she could tell. When she asked him quietly what was wrong, though, he shook his head. “I'll be fine. A bullet hit my vest, so I'm going to have a bruise, but I'm okay.”

“Okay.” She nodded.

“What about you?”

Shrugging, she gestured to herself. “I'm fine.”

“Good.”

As soon as all the Rittenhouse prisoners had been escorted out, Lucy exchanged looks with the two Wyatts, and they all moved toward the Lifeboat. The Wyatts were walking unhurriedly, but confidently, and Lucy did her best to do the same. They made it all the way there before Agent Christopher called out to them.

“You three – what are you doing? The area's secure.”

Lucy watched Future Wyatt take a deep breath. Then he turned around and took off his helmet. “Sorry, ma'am,” he said, as the other two turned to face her, “but we've got to go back.”

“Yeah, now that we did what we came for,” added the non-bearded Wyatt, also taking off his helmet so that Denise could see.

Lucy also took off her helmet, although it was kind of overkill by this point.

Agent Christopher looked thunderstruck. Her eyes went over each of them, and then she glanced back to where the Wyatt, Lucy, and Flynn of this timeline were all gathered in the dining area. Jiya and Rufus were there, too. She looked back at them. “But... how?”

“We don't really have time to explain it right now, ma'am,” said Future Wyatt.

“We're trying not to change too much more, anyway,” Lucy added.

“'Too much _more_ '?” Christopher echoed, her eyebrows rising again. “What did you come here to change?”

Lucy swallowed, her throat threatening to close. He was going to be okay now. When they got back...

“We have to go,” Future Wyatt said, and it sounded like he felt a little emotional, too.

Agent Christopher looked at each of them again, a thoughtful expression starting to replace the shock. “But we need the Lifeboat here. We're not done with Rittenhouse.”

“No, but you don't need to worry about that,” Future Wyatt told her. “We'll leave you with what you need.”

Shaking her head, Agent Christopher said, “Go, before I change my mind and decide I need to get to the bottom of this.”

“Thank you, ma'am,” said Present-day Wyatt, and then they were climbing in to the Lifeboat – well, the future Lifeboat.

The hatch closed, and Future Lucy was staring at them, hope obviously fighting against worry in her eyes. “So?”

“We did it,” her Wyatt told her, a grin breaking out over his face.

Future Lucy put the one hand that wasn't occupied with the control panel over her mouth, making a faint sound. She blinked quickly, and then cleared her throat. “Okay.” It came out weak, so she tried again. “Then let's go.”

“Yeah, let's go see him,” Lucy added, her heart feeling like it might explode at the thought.


	14. Chapter 14

It was a few days after they had rescued Rufus. That meant all of them were settled in to their new location. It also meant that only she and Wyatt even remembered that Rufus had ever been gone. (As for Lucy and Wyatt's future selves, they had left a few hours after the rescue.) The others had heard their story, but none of them had the same memories of how the bunker invasion had originally gone. Which was weird. Although Lucy definitely didn't begrudge Jiya her lack of palpable, crushing grief. The wound to Rufus' hand, which Lucy had seen him react to, turned out to be a superficial graze that would supposedly heal with no lingering effects.

So Lucy was starting to feel like there could be a routine to life again. And that was good. Well, Lucy was aware that it should be good, anyway. Her actual feelings didn't cooperate with her knowledge, sometimes.

Evidently Emma was still recuperating – or at least the Mothership hadn't jumped since the invasion of the old bunker, for whatever reason. So spending time together as a team was more possible than it often had been, too. It didn't hurt that the new location had a bigger, more comfortable common area.

The fourth night after Rufus was back, Jiya had dug up an episode of, of all things, _The Muppet Show_. They were all watching it, even Mason (Denise had gone home). Lucy was genuinely enjoying the mixture of sincerity and silliness. It was nice to be doing something so extremely un-stressful, with Rufus there. She hadn't seen much of the show before – in fact she was impressed that Jiya was a fan, given its original air dates. Even Flynn seemed entertained.

Her feeling of something close to contentment lasted until what she thought might have been the final segment of the episode. George Burns was singing with the Muppets again – but this time the selection of songs was not remotely funny to her. And not to Wyatt, either, she saw, when his wide eyes met hers. There was no reason to ruin everyone else's fun, though. Clearing her throat, she muttered, “I'm going to, um, go use the bathroom,” and then stood and walked out as quickly as she could.

And she did flee to the women's bathroom (having two bathrooms here really was excellent). She closed the door behind her, locking it before leaning back against it. Putting her face in her hands, she tried not to completely lose it. It was just a song.

“Lucy?”

Of course Wyatt had followed her. She sniffed. “What?”

There was a short pause, and then he said, “I just... I just wanted to check on you, I guess.” She could easily imagine his concerned face.

Lucy sighed. She wiped her own face, only wincing a little as she happened to touch the last tiny area around her left eye that was still tender. “I'm fine.”

After another short silence, he spoke again. His voice was low, possibly even dejected. “Okay. Well, um, I guess I'll leave you alone, then.”

She sighed again. They hadn't really talked much, just the two of them, at all. There hadn't been much of a chance. But Lucy also knew she was fooling herself if she tried to pretend she hadn't been avoiding him. “Wait.” She turned. Then, steeling herself, she unlocked the door and opened it.

He was standing there, looking nervous and maybe a tiny bit hopeful.

“It's true, you know,” she said, meeting his eyes. “I mean, it was when I...” Her throat closed, and she cleared it. “When I sang it. I didn't realize how true it would be.”

Wyatt swallowed visibly. “What do you mean?”

“I told you. I told you before we started this, I warned you it would be complicated. I even tried not to – not to be in love with you,” she said, in a rush. “But you insisted. You said you...” She had to break off again. “And then you _left_ as soon as she called you. And then what was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to try to compete with your wife?” There were tears on her face again. “You put all that effort into, into making me trust you, Wyatt. And I did. With everything. And then you threw it away.”

“I know,” he said. He was crying now, too. “I know, Lucy. I know what I did to you.” He took a slow, unsteady breath. “It cost you so much to trust me like that, and then I blew it all up. I never wanted to hurt you, but even while I was doing it I knew I was breaking your heart. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

Lucy closed her eyes and did her best to breathe. “I believe that you're sorry. But I also don't know how to trust you like that again.” When she opened her eyes again, he looked devastated. “I know that's not what you want to hear.”

“No, but I don't blame you.” Wyatt rubbed his hands over his face. “I couldn't. It's all on me.”

Shaking her head, Lucy gave a bitter half-smile. “It would probably be easier if I was angrier with you. But the real blame is on Rittenhouse, for bringing Jessica back just to screw with you.”

“To screw with us,” Wyatt corrected. “And I still could have done this so much better. Believe me, I've been thinking about it a lot, and you're not going to convince me otherwise.”

“Fine.” She pressed her lips together, and then spoke again. “Anyway. I guess we should go join everyone else, before they start wondering what's going on.”

“You're okay?” he asked. One hand moved toward her, just for a second, before he obviously stopped himself and dropped it back to his side.

She nodded. “Yeah.” The storm had passed. And she felt a very tiny bit better about how things stood between her and Wyatt now that they had actually talked about it. Then she remembered her future self's urging not to shut him out of her life, that he would be there for her if she let him. “And Wyatt?”

“Yeah?”

She met his eyes again. “I want to try. I'm trying. To figure it out, to trust you again.”

Wyatt stood stock still for a second, and then blinked several times. “Thank you.” His voice sounded choked.

Even things being slightly better than they had been wasn't enough forward progress to help her sleep at night, though. Not that her sleeping patterns had been normal for a while, but she had hoped that getting Rufus back and having moved to a new location where she had her own room might bring some relief. Yet nothing like that had materialized for her.

Tonight, if she wasn't trying to get “You Made Me Love You” out of her head, she was picturing Rufus and Jiya leaving the common room hand-in-hand, laughing and beaming at each other. And of course she couldn't wish them anything other than happiness. She was so glad two of her best friends could be together. They were obviously supposed to be together.

Which was kind of the problem, ugly and bitter though it made her feel to recognize that. Seeing and talking to her future counterpart, knowing that she and Future Wyatt were together like that... It had been, and continued to be, both a light to look forward to as well as simultaneously another piece of extra weight, more pressure of something to live up to. She knew this Wyatt, Present-day Wyatt, was bending over backwards not to add his own pressure to her. But sometimes it didn't seem to matter.

Lucy turned over for the hundredth time, sighing and rubbing her eyes until she saw stars. This was impossible. A second later, she sat up and turned on her lamp. Maybe she could read something, since sleep was apparently not going to happen tonight. But she was so tired. Her eyes fell on her prescriptions, sitting on the bedside table.

Before she could overthink it, she got out of bed, poured out a dose of Lupinox, and took it with the glass of water she had there. Then she got undressed and took off her Morfex patch. Finally, trying not to remember having done this after getting back from Salem, she pulled the blanket off her bed and ducked under the furniture with it, transforming as she did so. There wasn't quite as much space under this bed, since it wasn't just a cot, but it was enough.

As she'd hoped, the tumult inside her head died down noticeably. And her wolf form didn't usually think about any kind of music, so that was better, too. It still took her a while to feel comfortable. Once she finally found the right position, though, she eventually drifted off.

It was late by the time she finally stirred in the morning. Stretching, she got out from under the bed and transformed. But though she felt a little less physically tired, it still seemed like a lot of effort to do much else. Throwing on a robe over her pajamas, she decided she would check to see if coffee helped at all.

No one was in the kitchen at this hour, though she passed Rufus and Jiya – and Connor – sitting in the living room area talking. There was a mug of lukewarm coffee on the counter, which she thought might actually be meant for her, from Wyatt. Too bad the nice gesture had to go to waste. Lucy started another pot, then sat down at the table.

“Wyatt was looking for you earlier.”

Lucy tried not to flinch too noticeably at Flynn's sudden appearance. “Was he?”

Flynn nodded, and then sat down across from her. “He seemed worried.”

“Oh.” She met his eyes for just a second, and then looked away. “Do you know where he is now?”

“I think he's using the exercise room.” He paused for a moment, and then asked, “So. What would you say, if Wyatt asked you if you were okay, which I'm pretty sure he wants to?”

She kept her gaze on the coffee maker. “Why? Are you planning to pass a message to him, or something?”

He didn't sound impressed by her flippant response. “Wyatt isn't the only one who's worried.”

When she risked another glance, she saw that he looked sincere. “Well, you don't have to be.”

“All right. I'm not your therapist – and neither is Wyatt, for that matter,” said Flynn. “But I will say that you don't have to pretend to be all right. And I feel confident that everyone else here would agree with me.”

Lucy swallowed. She couldn't think of any response to that. And Flynn let her be, leaving the table after another minute or so. When the coffee was ready, Lucy drank, but she was unsettled now, apart from the mental exhaustion she'd been fighting. She didn't want everyone to be worrying about her.

But it turned out that worrying about _that_ in turn was too daunting of a prospect. She couldn't do it. Though she probably couldn't pretend not to care if Wyatt was worried. Also, this coffee was barely doing anything to make her wake up.

Sighing, she finished the cup and then went to take a shower. Maybe she'd be ready to figure out what Wyatt wanted once she felt more ready to face the day.

When she was done, though, she found Rufus and Jiya before she saw Wyatt. They had just gotten out a deck of cards. “Hey, Lucy, you want to join us?” Rufus called out.

“What's the game?”

“Uh, we were just talking about that,” Jiya said. “Got a preference?”

She sat down in the chair across from the couch where they were. “Not really.” Playing a game hadn't been something she was wanting to do. On the other hand, being able to hang out and have fun with both Jiya and Rufus hadn't lost its wonderful novelty.

“Then you can be the tie-breaking vote,” Rufus declared. “I was rooting for poker, but Jiya wants to do this crazy game of hers – what do you call it, again?”

“Mao, or King Mao,” Jiya said. “And it's not crazier than poker.”

“Says the girl who knows all the rules already, while us peons have to learn them as we go,” Rufus said, pointing an accusing finger at her.

“Wait, what do you mean?” Lucy asked, intrigued in spite of herself.

“Part of the fun of the game is figuring out the rules as you go,” Jiya insisted.

“Oh yeah, so fun,” Rufus interrupted. “For _you_ , giving penalties left and right.”

“That's how you learn,” Jiya said, as if that was totally reasonable.

To her dismay and embarrassment, Lucy found herself tearing up then. “I'm sorry,” she said, trying to get a hold of herself. “Sorry. It's just... you...” She took a deep breath. “This is so normal. Or at least it was before I freaked out on you two. I just, there was a little while there where I thought you would never – we would never be able to do something like this, all of us together.”

Thankfully, after a pause, Rufus spoke up with a small but genuine smile. “Well, that would definitely suck for you, I agree.”

Jiya snorted, though Lucy had seen the pain on her face at that possibility. She looked at Lucy. “And I guess it must be pretty hard to just move on, after going through that.”

Lucy nodded. “Not that I don't want to. I'd really like to, actually. So. Tell me more about this game where you learn the rules as you go.”

Rufus groaned. “Why didn't I realize you two would gang up on me? I thought you were supposed to be so relieved I'm not dead!”

Jiya smacked him in the arm, but Lucy actually chuckled. “And you thought that would mean I automatically take your side? Sorry, Rufus. I like poker, but I want to learn something new.”

They were several minutes into the game – which meant Lucy had barely started to figure out any of the rules – by the time Wyatt came in. The rules of the game (one of which was that they weren't supposed to talk without saying, “Point of order” and pausing the game first) meant he was pretty confused, pretty quickly. “Seriously, is anyone going to tell me what you're doing?”

Lucy finally took pity on him and legally paused the game. “The game is called Mao. But you should really ask Jiya. She's the one who's teaching this.”

“And I can't really tell you much more than Lucy just said,” Jiya put in. “Those are the rules. Although watching first isn't a bad idea, actually.”

Wyatt raised his eyebrows. “So, this is a game where only you know the rules? That doesn't seem very fair.”

“That's what I told her!” Rufus said.

“But if you figure it out, and you win the round, you get to set the next new rule – right?” Lucy asked Jiya.

Jiya nodded. “Yep.”

Wyatt's expression cleared. “Ah, so that's the draw.”

“That, and being the first to figure out all the rules in the meantime,” Lucy said.

Wyatt decided to join in after the first hand – which Jiya won. But Lucy won the next. It was nice to feel that satisfaction of having learned something successfully, mixed with having fun with her friends.

It wasn't that long afterward – each person in the group having won at least one hand – that Rufus suggested they stop for lunch. Lucy, who hadn't been up long enough to be hungry for lunch, kept quiet but followed the others into the kitchen. Wyatt slowed when she did. “Hey. What are you thinking?”

“For lunch? Honestly, I'm not hungry,” she told him, with a shrug. “I had breakfast not that long ago.”

“Ah, right,” he said, nodding. “Feel better, though, after sleeping in?”

“Mostly. Actually, I feel better after the card game.”

He smiled, though he still looked a little worried. Like Flynn had said. “Good.”

When she yawned a minute later, after sitting down at the table, he shot her another look. “Sounds like you're still tired.”

She sighed. Rufus and Jiya were chatting in the kitchen, barely out of earshot. “I am,” she admitted, quietly. “It's like... We've been going and going, non-stop, for so long. And we got Rufus back, and I'm so happy about that, but I feel...” She paused, considering. “The idea that we're still not done yet is – it feels worse than it used to. Bigger than it used to.”

Wyatt nodded, his face serious.

When he didn't speak, Lucy cleared her throat and went on. “It's kind of like I'm running on fumes, I guess.” She didn't really know why she was telling him this, except she did know he wouldn't judge. “Even when I do actually sleep.”

“I get that,” he said. “And you're right that the rate everything's been happening has been nuts. It's amazing that we aren't all permanently exhausted.”

“Oh, we are,” Rufus put in, sitting down at the table with a plate holding a sandwich. “The only thing that gets less rest than us here is probably the coffee machine, because of that fact.” Jiya made a sound of agreement as she sat down next to him. Then he took a bite of his sandwich and asked around it, “Are you two going to eat something?”

Wyatt gave Lucy a quick look that she read as, “To be continued,” before casually saying they'd get some food in a minute.

As luck would have it, Lucy had her regular appointment with Dr. Riley after lunch. It turned out that having started to talk through a few things with Wyatt made it easier to know what she needed to keep working through with the doctor. She didn't come away from the appointment energized, but then again she never did. It was, however, helpful for reminding her that focusing on the size of the task they still had to do was probably not the best way forward. “So, one problem at a time, is what you're saying?” she'd said, and Dr. Riley had agreed.

Lucy had nodded, with a little smile, but that had faded quickly. “And what if... Okay, so I've been told that the way to get through this, this kind of intense situation where the stakes are so high, is to figure out what I'm fighting for. And I did, when – when I got the advice, and it was important, but now...”

Dr. Riley looked understanding. “It's not helping as much?”

“Not because the advice was bad,” Lucy said quickly. “But... I was fighting to get my sister back, and I don't know if I can keep hoping for that. And then I was fighting to save Rufus, and now he's okay, he's safe, and that's great. But it feels like the only thing I can fight for now is to stop Rittenhouse for good. And that seems too huge, like I was saying.”

“I see.” The doctor nodded. “Well, I do suggest you keep your mind open to other possible things to fight for. But in the meantime, are there any smaller, concrete actions you can take? Obviously we all hope your ultimate mission will succeed, soon. Since it is so complex, though, the 'one problem at a time' idea could still be helpful – referring to one smaller more manageable part of the whole at a time.”

So that was what Lucy was pondering as she headed down the hall. She stopped in front of Wyatt's room before she'd quite realized that's where she was going. But it made sense. The problems she was thinking of would need his help to solve. Taking a breath, she raised a hand and knocked on his door.

“Hey.” She thought he looked surprised for a second when he opened the door, but then he pulled the door open more. “What's up?”

“Hey. Uh, I wanted to talk to you. To ask for your help.”

“What do you need?” he said.

“Well, after my appointment – and a little before, but mostly just now – I've been thinking about what to do, to take a major step toward defeating Rittenhouse,” she told him. “I know we'll all keep doing what we can. But there's something pretty big that I, personally, want to do, and I hope you'll help.”

He gestured for her to come in, and she did so. Then she cleared her throat, as he shut the door. “Ever since I started, since I became an alpha, I've just assumed I can use that to get out of every dangerous situation that involves other Lycanth. Or to get us all out of it. But I shouldn't have. We saved Rufus, but I still couldn't make Emma or any other Lycanth there do what I said.” She sat down in the chair across from his bed.

“You couldn't have known-” Wyatt started to say, sitting opposite her.

“Emma isn't stupid,” Lucy interrupted, shaking her head. “It was obvious she wouldn't keep getting herself into situations where I could screw up her plans by ordering her around. I should have realized she would figure out a way to stop me.”

“Okay.” Though he frowned, he didn't argue. “How did she do that, anyway? I know the – the first time around, none of us had any idea.”

Lucy swallowed. Any reference to “the first time around”, when they had actually lost Rufus, was still extremely painful. And she knew it was for Wyatt, too. “I still don't know all the details, but I think it must be some kind of specialized earbuds or something, based on what the one Rittenhouse guy I interacted with the second time around said.” She sighed. “I mean, it would actually be crazy if Emma was the first Lycanth to ever want to block an alpha's voice, if you think about it.”

“I guess you're right,” Wyatt agreed. “So, how can I help?”

She met his eyes. “I have two ideas. First of all, I need to be able to defend myself and fight back, without relying on either being an alpha or transforming.”

He raised his eyebrows. “And you're not just saying this because of what Future You said when she came out of the other Lifeboat?”

Lucy scoffed. She could still remember how incredibly weird it had been to face off with her double. “No. Although I will admit what she said intrigued me, I really do think I need that training.”

He smiled a little, but then nodded. “And I will admit that when she said it, I wondered why I never pushed for that before. I always knew I couldn't be everywhere to protect you and Rufus. So, yes, I'd be happy to train you.”

She smiled back, a bit awkwardly. She knew it wasn't going to be easy, either physically or emotionally. “Thanks.” Still, maybe a goal unrelated to the current rockiness of their relationship would be just the thing to get them past that awkwardness.

“No problem. So what's your second idea?”

She took another deep breath. “This one's a little trickier.” And potentially a lot more awkward, both in terms of logistics and in terms of the two of them interacting, she thought. “Alphas can use their ability in wolf form, too. It's not just about the voice.”

Wyatt's gaze sharpened. “Huh. I mean, I guess you probably had to try to get me not to do something stupid, after I first transformed, so that makes sense.”

She nodded. “Right. So, I was wondering – I was thinking we could try kind of exploring that. So I have another way of getting to Emma. Who knows? Once I have a better feel for it, maybe I would be able to use the whole nonverbal thing even when we're in human form.”

“You have been thinking about this.” It was hard to read the tone of his voice. Then his eyes searched her face. “Just so I can make sure we're on the same page: if we try exploring this, that means we'll both need to go find somewhere we can both be in wolf form. Then you'll try to figure out how to use your alpha ability to make me do stuff. And my part will just be to stay ready to do whatever it is.”

Wincing, she let her eyes drop to where her hands were folded in her lap. “I'm sorry. I know that doesn't sound like a lot of fun. And if I could think of any way to learn how to do this without ordering you around, you know I would.”

“Lucy, I wasn't complaining,” he said. When she looked back up, she saw the sincerity in his eyes. “It's a tactically sound idea, and besides... I trust you. Always.”

Taking a breath was suddenly difficult. She blinked repeatedly, looking away again. “Okay. Thank you.” Then she stood up. The atmosphere felt too heavy, now. She had to leave. Clearing her throat, she turned and walked quickly toward the door. She tried to tell herself she wasn't disappointed that he didn't say a word to stop her from leaving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe it or not, that very clip from _The Muppet Show_ was the first time I ever heard "You Made Me Love You" - and in fact when I heard that was going to be the song Lucy sang, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to take it seriously! (Of course I do, now, and now it will always remind me of Hollywoodland.)


	15. Chapter 15

~~~~~~

There was no time for either kind of training until after their next jump, which had taken them to Detroit in 1950. Wyatt had said – and Flynn had agreed – that it looked like Emma's arm was still bothering her. Lucy didn't bother to hide her satisfaction with that. She wouldn't be sad if that woman lost some significant use of the limb for good.

She guessed that wasn't a bad state of mind for Wyatt to find her in and ask if she was up for getting started with some hand-to-hand combat training. She considered for a moment. “Sure. Just let me get changed, and I'll meet you in the exercise room?”

He nodded. “Sounds good.”

For their first session, Wyatt insisted on focusing on blocking, as well as giving her some exercises to build upper body strength. “I know you're good in terms of endurance, so this is just adding to what you already naturally have.”

Lucy couldn't really argue, even if she wanted to. She was determined to be the learner here. Especially since the other kind of training was going to involve her doing a lot of bossing him around. Just because her goal was to get to the actual punching part as soon as possible didn't mean she didn't get the importance of learning defense and building up muscle first, too.

It was, quite honestly, awkward to have to be in physical contact with each other. Wyatt apologized once at the beginning for that necessity, but she told him not to worry about it. Still, she was hyper-aware of his proximity, and occasionally very distracted by the feelings that awareness brought with it. There was, after all, a good reason she had told him not touch her, back before they'd known the truth about Jessica.

Overall, though, she felt like they'd gotten some good work done. She definitely knew she was going to be sore tomorrow. And it was good to feel like she'd made some progress toward one of those manageable goals she had talked about with Dr. Riley.

~~~~~~

Wyatt honestly wasn't sure if he was looking forward to this session of helping Lucy develop her alpha ability, or not. He hadn't been lying when he'd told her that it was a good idea, and that he trusted her. Those things were true. But it was going to be strange, at best. Possibly even more awkward than their interactions during their first two sessions in the workout room, in some ways.

Lucy seemed a little anxious, too, as they went to talk to Agent Christopher. Focused, though. Which was good. If all this helped her feel less at a loss about everything, Wyatt knew he'd call it a win even if she wasn't able to get a great handle on using her alpha ability in wolf form. But he also was pretty sure she would figure it out. When she was this determined to do something, Lucy usually didn't stop until she succeeded.

“You two want to be outside the house, for this practice?” Agent Christopher was saying. She didn't look particularly happy about the idea.

“Yes,” said Lucy. “I understand we're still at risk if someone finds us, but for this to really work, we're going to need space. It's going to involve running, for one thing. The barn would almost work, but I don't feel right asking Jiya, Rufus, and Connor to stay out of their own workspace.”

Christopher was quiet for a moment. “But if you do figure this out, you'll be able to counteract whatever Emma did during the bunker incursion, to block your alpha ability?”

“I think so,” said Lucy.

“We could transform first so we're already in wolf form when we leave,” Wyatt put in. “I'm sure there's all kind of wildlife out here. A couple of wolves wouldn't necessarily attract any attention, if anyone happened to be looking.”

“And we were already thinking we might want to do it at night,” was Lucy's suggestion. “So no one would be watching, anyway.”

“Although if I agreed to that, it would be more complicated to make sure at least some of my guys are keeping watch,” Agent Christopher pointed out. “I know your wolf forms are formidable, but I can't in good conscience let two of my assets out of protective custody. Especially when our last safehouse was compromised so recently.”

“We wouldn't need to go far, I guess,” Lucy said.

Wyatt could tell she didn't really want an audience, but she was also trying to be reasonable. He cleared his throat. “If you can get a couple of guys some night vision goggles, we'll do our best not to move out of their range.”

Agent Christopher gave a nod. “Well, let me see what I can do. I can't promise I'll be ready by tonight, but I'll let you know.”

“Thank you,” said Lucy.

“We appreciate it, ma'am,” Wyatt added.

As it turned out, before dinner, Christopher informed them that she had been able to set up security in a way that satisfied her. “My guys will expect to be able to have you in view. They're professionals, so they're only concerned with your safety.”

Wyatt assumed that what she wasn't saying was, “They won't worry about if what you're doing looks weird.” Which he guessed it might, from an outside perspective. But he appreciated her not saying it out loud, anyway.

Lucy just nodded again. “We'll keep that in mind.” Then she turned to Wyatt. “Are you going to be ready?”

He took a deep breath. “Yeah. Let's go right after dinner.”

Of course, it was undeniably weird to transform (in the privacy of their own rooms) and then walk through the house in wolf form. Everyone was still up and around, of course. And it wasn't like Wyatt and Lucy were trying to keep this a secret for some reason. But most of the group hadn't seen them both in wolf form together. In fact, Wyatt realized, Rufus might be the only one who had seen him in wolf form at all.

Still, as they moved toward the back door of the house, Lucy showed no sign of embarrassment. Both her head and tail were high, and she walked with purpose. So Wyatt followed, matching his behavior to hers, although it didn't seem right to keep his tail quite as high as hers.

“Good luck, guys,” Jiya said, as they went past the common area.

Lucy stopped so she could acknowledge the comment with a nod. Wyatt did the same. Then a nearly expressionless Flynn unlocked and opened the back door at their approach. “Good luck.”

He seemed sincere, so Wyatt nodded to him, too. Then he and Lucy were outside. And his first thought, as soon as they were more than a few paces away from the house, was that this was amazing. He hadn't had much chance to be outside in wolf form. To be away from others, outside, while it got dark – and with Lucy? That felt just right.

She seemed much more relaxed, too. Even as she trotted a few more yards toward the treeline, looking back to see if he was coming, the tension he was used to seeing in her these days was all but gone. He joined her, and then they both looked up and toward the house at the sound of someone coming close.

A man in dark clothes, wearing at least one holster and carrying a pair of binoculars, waved a hand at them when they turned. “Evening,” he called out.

Agent Christopher's man, then. Wyatt saw that Lucy had come to the same conclusion. They both once again nodded, and then the man stepped back a little closer to the house.

Lucy made a faint sound. He looked back at her, and she met his eyes firmly. At first, that was all that happened – she kept staring at him while he stared back. Then she sighed, obviously frustrated, and broke eye contact.

So that hadn't worked. Wyatt moved closer and licked her nose. The human side of him (they'd both taken Lupinox, so that wasn't hard to reach) thought for a moment that he shouldn't, but on the other hand, he also knew body language was the main way they could communicate in this form. He wanted to tell her it was fine, they could keep trying.

And Lucy didn't seem to mind. She just sighed again a little and nudged his face with hers. Then she turned away and shook her head. Then suddenly she froze, her ears flicking forward, toward the woods.

Wyatt had heard it, too. There had been a rustling sound from just beyond the tree line, like a small prey animal. And now everything in him was urging him to hunt it. He took one step that direction.

Then Lucy was in front of him, her gaze locked on his again. Annoyed, he tried to move around her. It was probably a rabbit. It wouldn't be hard to catch.

But Lucy wouldn't let him go. She moved to stay in front of him. Suddenly, he felt an urge stronger than the desire to hunt. It was like she had reached gently but unavoidably into his mind and told him to stop, to stand down. He stopped trying to get around her and just stood, ready.

It was somehow even easier than usual to sense her satisfaction, too. Then he felt that she wanted him to sit down and wait. So he sat.

Lucy walked forward carefully and quietly, toward where the sound had come from. Even though she wasn't looking at him anymore, it still seemed like a good idea to stay where he was. He knew she wanted him to.

It did seem kind of unfair, though, that she was going to hunt without him. Just as she was about to disappear behind a tree, Wyatt shook himself and stood up. He didn't bark, not wanting to scare off their prey if it was still there, but he did move as quickly and quietly as he could to follow Lucy.

Before he could catch up, though, she was suddenly in front of him again. With a quiet growl, she met his eyes again. Then he was sitting again. Because she wanted him to.

It was her turn to lick his nose. And then that compulsion was gone, and she was just inviting him to come with her into the woods. Which he was only too willing to do.

But the rabbit – that was what it had been, he could tell by scent as the two of them got closer – was gone by now. He huffed out a disappointed breath. They could track it, but that would probably take them too far out of sight of Agent Christopher's guard.

Lucy shoved against his shoulder lightly. Then she walked back to the edge of the woods and took off almost at a run, parallel to the trees but not into them. Wyatt caught up quickly, wondering what was was on her mind now.

She slowed and turned around, her mouth open in a canine grin. His tail wagged in response. So the running had just been for the fun of it? Because that was an idea he could get behind.

Just as he was trying to figure out if he could challenge her to a race, he felt that strong need to sit still again. Disappointed but still wanting to do what she wanted, he sat and watched her run off. This time, she ran far enough that he could barely see her.

It wasn't until she came back that he felt the compulsion lift. He gave a mock-growl and stood, shaking himself. Her mouth was open in another laugh.

This time he was the one to nudge her. It didn't seem fair for her to tease him for doing what they had planned to do. Although it was also hard to care about any wounded pride when she seemed so happy.

Suddenly, she sprang at him, knocking him to the ground. He fought back automatically, taking it the same way she was giving it – obviously just for the fun of it. They wrestled for a few moments and then Lucy pulled away and rolled to her feet, panting.

Wyatt got to his feet, too, his tail wagging again. This had been pretty different from what he had been expecting, honestly, though not in a bad way. And then... Well. He might not have experienced this exact situation in wolf form before, but it was still pretty obvious what her scent and her behavior now meant. What she was telling him she wanted.

He came closer again, slowly this time but confidently. He nuzzled her nose, which she immediately reciprocated. Then, barely believing this was happening, he stood next to her so he could press his whole body against hers. Lucy shoved back gently, licking the side of his face. Did she really want this?

But when he made a motion toward checking to see if her scent was really all the way there, she suddenly jerked back and growled. He could immediately tell it wasn't a playful growl either. She backed up several more steps, her ears back. Her eyes were wide, and she did not look happy.

_Shit._ Wyatt whined faintly, doing his best to communicate that it was okay, that he wasn't upset and he would follow her lead here, too. Honestly, he would have been surprised (though definitely not unhappy) if she had actually been ready now.

Lucy blew out a breath, her ears still down, and then turned and ran back toward the house. She didn't look back. Wyatt let out his own sigh and then moved the same direction. He wouldn't crowd her or make her feel like he was chasing her. He had promised himself – well, both his actual self and his future self, to be specific – that he would give her all the time and space that she needed. Even though the letdown was intense.

~~~~~~

It wasn't that late by the time they'd transformed, but Lucy used the not-untrue fact that she had a growing headache as an excuse for her to head back toward her room. She could barely meet Wyatt's eyes, though he had, of course, not said anything to add to her embarrassment.

“All right.” Wyatt paused, then scratched his face. “I don't want to make you feel worse.” Then he cleared his throat. “And, uh, we can talk about how... everything went tomorrow, then?”

They would have to, wouldn't they? “Yeah.” She managed a brief smile, though it was undoubtedly strained. “See you tomorrow.” Then she quickly went back into her room and closed the door.

Letting out a sigh, she closed her eyes and sank down onto her bed. That had been... She shook her head. Their actual goal, the practice of her alpha ability, had gone well enough. She had definitely made progress, and it apparently hadn't made Wyatt resent her or anything. Although maybe that would have been better than how it ended up. At least they hadn't actually done anything. Though she didn't have the excuse of not taking Lupinox to fall back on, so there was no way their conversation tomorrow wouldn't be all kinds of awkward and excruciating.

In the meantime, she had no idea how she was going to be able to sleep. Her wolf form would be the opposite of helpful in this situation. Which meant that unless she wanted to stare at the ceiling all night, it might be time to go raid the liquor cabinet. Except that wouldn't help her headache at all.

With a groan, she changed into pajamas, turned out her light, and crawled under her covers. Maybe it would be fine. She was genuinely tired, after all. And that was the last thought she remembered having for several hours.

But when she did wake up suddenly, the night still dark, Lucy immediately wished that the images from the dream she'd been having weren't still in her mind. Not because they were terrifying or even creepy. No, this time, the dream had been... _too_ pleasant. So remembering why that wouldn't – and shouldn't – be happening in real life anytime soon was a painful jolt.

Rubbing her eyes and sitting up, Lucy realized her headache was gone. In which case, maybe getting some alcohol now wouldn't be too bad of an idea. She stood and put on her robe, and then eased open her door so she could sneak out into the kitchen without waking anyone.

She made it all the way out there without making a sound, which seemed like an accomplishment. Then she sat down on the couch in the living area (which was much more comfortable than the old vinyl one in the bunker had been) and started to drink. The cheap vodka didn't taste much better than it ever had. It was dulling her painfully racing thoughts, though.

She hadn't been at it very long when she heard quiet footsteps approaching, and then detected Jiya's scent. But there wasn't any time for her to pretend to be doing anything other than what she was doing. “What are you doing up?” she asked softly, when the other woman was close enough to hear.

“I could ask you that same question,” said Jiya, also keeping quiet. “I'm turning on the overhead light.”

Lucy blinked as the room brightened. Then she took another drink. “You go first.”

Jiya raised her eyebrows, and then sat down in the chair next to the couch. “Fine. I had a vision. It wasn't anything huge, but I couldn't sleep after I had it.”

“Oh,” said Lucy. “Did you, uh, need some?” She held out the bottle.

With a wry half-smile, Jiya shook her head. “No, thanks. Like I said, it wasn't anything huge.” Then she met Lucy's eyes. “So, I told you mine. I'm guessing your reason has something to do with Wyatt?”

Lucy flushed, looking down into her lap. Clearing her throat, she said, “Pretty obvious, I guess.”

Jiya's tone of voice was kind. “Pretty much, yeah. Especially since you basically ran in here last night, and then Wyatt came in afterward with his tail literally between his legs.”

Lucy winced, and took another drink. “Right.”

When she didn't say anything else, Jiya spoke again. “I thought you two were doing okay, these last few days. Not great, maybe, but okay. What happened?”

“It seemed like we were doing okay. I mean we had been, I think.” She rubbed both hands over her face. “And then I made a pass at him while we were both in wolf form. And then I ran away.”

It was Jiya's turn to wince. “Oooh. Ouch.”

“Yeah.”

There was a pause, and then Jiya broke the silence. “You can tell me to mind my own business, but I'm going to ask anyway: you took your Lupinox first, both of you, right?” When Lucy nodded, Jiya went on. “Okay, so this wasn't some instinctive thing.”

“No,” Lucy said, though it was hard to get the word out around the lump in her throat. She tried to clear it before continuing. “If it was, it would still be embarrassing but... easier, I think. To deal with.”

“So... you can't sleep now because you made a pass at Wyatt? Or because you ran away?”

Lucy closed her eyes. Then she opened them and downed another gulp of vodka. She wanted to say it was definitely the former, but that probably wasn't right. “Both? I don't know.” A tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it away.

“I'm sorry,” Jiya said simply. “That has to be hard.”

Lucy considered taking another drink before realizing she really didn't want to add being majorly hungover to the inevitable extreme awkwardness of talking to Wyatt tomorrow. She closed the bottle and set it down on the coffee table in front of her, grimacing when the motion was more forceful than she'd meant it to be. “Yeah,” she sighed again.

“On the other hand...” Jiya trailed off.

“On the other hand, what?” Lucy said, frowning.

“Again, you can feel free to tell me to buzz off and mind my own business, but I just hope you won't hold back, when you really are ready. Because I still think you and Wyatt are better together.”

Lucy stared at her for a second, before unscrewing the bottle again to take one last (definitely the last) swallow. Then she closed the bottle again, put it back on the table more carefully this time, and closed her eyes to keep the tears from starting back up. It wasn't that she didn't believe that, exactly, but more that she still couldn't see her way to that point.

“I'm sorry,” Jiya said again. “I don't know if I'm helping at all, and you can obviously ignore me if I'm not. Is there anything I can do to help you right now?”

Lucy took a deep breath. “I guess you can take this away so I don't feel too much like crap in the morning.” She pushed the bottle toward her friend. “But other than that, I can't think of anything.”

~~~~~~

As it turned out, the Mothership jumped again the next morning, which meant Lucy and Wyatt didn't have any chance to have that talk. It didn't look like Wyatt had gotten a lot of sleep, either. But as an experienced soldier, he didn't show any signs of not being able to function despite his lack of sleep. That was true even though their trip to Prohibition-era New York didn't give the team much down time. And Lucy also noticed that neither she nor Wyatt were eager to let Rufus out of their sight. Which was... not exactly new. They'd probably felt and acted that way during their last jump, too. But she realized it had to be irritating.

“Okay, guys, you have to stop,” Rufus said finally, when he volunteered to look for another car and both Lucy and Wyatt tensed and looked at each other. “I know I died in your timeline, but I'm alive now, and it's been a while, anyway. And I don't think dying once makes me more susceptible than normal.”

Lucy gulped. “I guess not,” she said, but her voice came out weak, with an obvious quiver.

Wyatt shot him an angry look. “Not funny, man.”

Rufus sighed. “I'm sorry. But since I'm here, I'm going to need to keep taking at least the normal amount of risks. Right?”

Lucy clenched her fists. She wanted to keep him close, safe, but he was right. “Right.”

“Yeah,” Wyatt echoed. “Just... be careful, okay?”

Rufus nodded, and then narrowed his eyes, looking between the two of them. “Is this some kind of pack thing, again?”

“Oh,” said Lucy. “Probably, yeah.” She shrugged. “Which means we'll get over it as long as you don't give us any new reason to freak out. Deal?”

“Deal. It's not like I suddenly want to be injured or something.”

“Because you're not invulnerable, nor were you ever,” was Flynn's pointed comment.

He rolled his eyes. “Uh huh.”

Later, after they had stopped Emma, and the four of them were ready to climb back into the Lifeboat, Flynn had a question. “So, if Rufus can be a part of your pack even though he's not Lycanth, am I part of it, too?” He was looking back and forth between Lucy and Wyatt.

Wyatt scoffed, but Lucy stopped and considered it. “Hmm.” She cared about him, certainly. He had proven himself loyal, and she didn't want him to get hurt. The most important criterion, though, was what it felt like to imagine him not being there, for whatever reason. “Yes, you are,” she declared. “For me, anyway. I can't speak for someone else's pack bond.”

Flynn blinked. “Well.” With a quick glance at Wyatt, he smiled slightly. “I suppose I should say thank you.”

“It's not exactly – it kind of just happens,” said Lucy. “But you're welcome.”

Wyatt said nothing, and when Lucy looked over at him, once they were all back inside the Lifeboat, she could see that his jaw was clenched. She knew he still didn't trust Flynn, and hadn't forgiven him for the terrible things he'd done before they started to fight on the same side. And she had more than a slight suspicion that Wyatt was also jealous of the time she had spent with Flynn since Jessica's return. To his credit, he had said almost nothing about it. Which didn't mean he was subtle about it, either.

“Jiya is, too,” Lucy said, breaking the silence as Rufus closed the hatch. “Part of the pack, I mean.”

“Yeah, she told me you'd told her, after we saved Agent Christopher,” Rufus said. He sounded pleased.

“How many people are usually in a pack?” Flynn asked. He sounded genuinely curious.

“Sorry, I'm taking us home before Lucy answers that,” Rufus interrupted.

After they arrived, though, Lucy made sure to answer his original question (packs usually had up to a dozen members, with more than that being possible but unusual), and to tell him he was free to ask if there was anything else he wanted to know.

After their late dinner, Lucy had picked up the book she hadn't felt like facing last night, and started reading it in the common area. It was a fantasy novel, one Jiya had recommended. She liked it so far, though it was a little more 'high fantasy' than what she would normally pick for herself.

“Hey.” Wyatt was there in front of her, looking nervous.

She moved her bookmark and closed the book. “Hey.”

“I, uh, wanted to apologize.”

“For what?” Lucy couldn't think of what he was talking about. This couldn't be the way he was beginning the conversation about last night, could it?

He sighed. “I just don't want you to think I don't trust your judgement. About Flynn, or – or anything. Because I do.”

She blinked. “Oh. Well, you know I – I told you before, it doesn't seem like accepting people, non-Lycanth, into my pack is something I really choose to do, anyway. It just kind of happens.”

He nodded, sitting down on the other end of the couch from her. Continuing to give her space. “I know. But I trust your instincts, too. Especially about Lycanth stuff, since you've had a lot more time to develop those instincts than I have.”

Lucy sighed, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. “Not that you'd know it, based on my behavior last night.”

Wyatt's eyes darkened for a moment, but then he met her gaze firmly. “No, you have nothing to be ashamed of. If anything, I pushed too hard, too soon.”

Her mouth falling open, Lucy shook her head. “You didn't.” She looked into his eyes, so sincere. This guilt, at least, she could relieve easily. He couldn't keep thinking that. “Wyatt, _I_ got carried away. I don't have a good excuse, but I definitely started it.”

“Okay, but then you had the right to stop it, too,” Wyatt told her. “So I don't want you to feel bad about that.” When she didn't say anything, he added, “It seemed like we made progress, with your alpha ability.”

“Yeah.” She stared at her hands. “I'd say we need at least one more session. Although I'd understand if you didn't feel great about... doing that again.”

“Well, maybe not tonight, because we're all pretty tired. But, Lucy, I can handle being disappointed. I'm not mad at you.”

This was starting to feel like too much again, like when he'd first told her he wasn't worried about her practicing her alpha ability on him because he trusted her. And then she remembered the one reason he definitely did have the right to be angry. “You should know, though, and I shouldn't have let myself forget: in wolf form, normal human birth control doesn't work as well. And I don't have any that works for Lycanth in wolf form, and, um, if a female gets pregnant in wolf form, the chances are pretty high that pregnancy will result in multiple births.”

“Oh.” Wyatt's eyebrows were high, and his voice sounded strained.

“Yeah. So I'm sorry about that.” Her hands were twisted together now.

“Okay.” He cleared his throat. “I guess I'm glad we didn't get that far, then. But we didn't. So we don't need to worry about that. And obviously the next time you practice, it won't happen again.”

Even though she knew exactly what he meant, Lucy's traitorous heart sank anyway when he said those words. But she nodded. “Right.”

Wyatt was too damn observant, though. “Lucy... What I meant was, now we won't be in that exact situation again when we practice. I didn't say anything about any other situation.”

“I know,” she said quickly. Oh God, and now he was comforting her about the exact same thing she had literally run away from last night. He shouldn't have to do that. Part of her wanted to melt at how understanding he was being. The other part just refused. It was still too risky.

She cast her mind around for something to say, to change the subject. It was either that or she would have to run away. Again. “Uh, look, about what you were saying earlier – I wouldn't be mad at you for being obviously unhappy about the idea of Flynn being a part of the pack. You have your reasons, too.”

Wyatt blinked. After a moment, he scoffed. “Yeah, I do have my reasons. And I'm having a hard time reconciling those with the fact that, now, the team feels more _complete_ when he's there, too. Which, considering just how much I've always hated him? It's weird.”

“Oh. Well, uh, sorry about the weirdness.” So apparently Wyatt's pack bond was expanding, too. That was... kind of comforting, somehow.

“Nah, I'll figure it out.” He gave something like a smile, then stood up.

For a moment, Lucy felt a strong urge to tell him not to go. But she bit her lip and kept silent. Picking up her book, she tried not to think too much about how good it felt to have Wyatt care so much about showing that he respected her and valued her opinions. Thinking about that too much would be confusing, especially after she had fled from any deeper intimacy last night. The inconsistencies, the vacillations in her own heart and mind were exhausting enough without spending all her time thinking about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, those crazy kids are actually making progress back to each other, slow as it might seem.  
> (Speaking of slow, can we get any news about the movie filming soon???)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS the teases about the Timeless Movie are killing me.
> 
> Anyway, here's another chapter - sorry about the wait. Enjoy!

Wyatt definitely wasn't surprised that their second session of practice with Lucy's alpha ability was different than the first. But he hadn't been prepared for just how different it was. She still seemed confident and businesslike as they left the house together. Instead of her relaxing and seeming happier outside, though, all he could see was that same businesslike attitude.

And as they started to practice, there was no hint of the playfulness she had shown last time. She wasn't rude. She was still Lucy, and she wasn't going to start being a jerk all of a sudden. But there was no laughing, no chasing... and absolutely none of the other thing, either. Which had to be what this change of attitude was all about in the first place.

Wyatt tried not to sigh too obviously. Part of him ached to make this better for her somehow, in any way he could. But mostly he knew anything he tried would be more likely to make things worse, at least in the short run. She was sensitive about accepting things from him. Even just emotional support. Which was driving him crazy, even though he understood why she might feel like that.

Anyway. He focused his attention back on the woman in question, instead of his own angst. (That was a little easier to do in wolf form, which he was discovering didn't tend to allow for long philosophical trains of thought.) Lucy had urged him to stay where he was again, while she went off without him.

So he did. For a little while, he tried to just enjoy the sensations of being outside again, in his wolf form. And then he realized that her scent was barely there anymore. Just how far away was she?

He felt like that should have been enough to let him get up and go find her. But it wasn't. It still felt like fighting through something heavy before he was finally able to get up. He shook himself all over, and then followed her trail.

He didn't actually have that far to go before she was standing there a few feet away, waiting. Her tail wagged faintly as he showed up. And she didn't seem to mind him coming right up to her and sniffing her face, either. She did, however, look into his eyes again right after that. This time, she didn't want him to stay put. She wanted him to... find something?

This was harder to understand. But she blinked and then tried again. She wanted him to find... something she had hidden. He thought.

And so he looked. He wanted to do what she wanted. He tracked her path around that area, feeling her watching him as he did. Just when he was wondering what would happen if he literally couldn't do what she wanted, the scent got stronger. Another few steps, and he'd found... a crushed Coke can? It was obviously old, and had probably been outside this house since before some of the trips they'd taken in the Lifeboat – but it was also obviously what she had carried around and hidden.

So he picked it up in his mouth and took it to her, dropping it in front of her (and trying not to suddenly remember playing fetch with his grandpa's old golden retriever, when he was a kid). She looked happy – well, happier than she had all evening, anyway. And she nuzzled his face with hers for just a second.

That was as far as she was willing to go. Which was fine. It had to be fine. Wyatt told himself firmly that it was fine. That worked well enough to let him focus on Lucy's next idea.

This one seemed complicated, too. She was telling him to go somewhere... to go behind a tree, he thought. And then she wanted him to... He shook his head. He wasn't getting it.

Lucy huffed out a frustrated breath, blinked, and turned away. Then she met his eyes again. He was supposed to go behind a tree and – oh! She wanted him to transform.

Part of him thought that was going to be a little awkward. But mostly, he didn't care. She wanted him to do it, and it wouldn't hurt anything.

So he found a good-sized tree, made sure it was between him and Agent Christopher's guy, and then transformed. Standing up, he cleared his throat. “Okay, that worked,” he said, in a low voice he knew would carry to Lucy.

She made what he translated as an approving sound.

So he transformed again, and came to meet her. She nodded at him, and then turned to the house. At least this time she wasn't literally running away from him.

Inside, once he was in human form and dressed, Wyatt knocked on her door. “Hey, can I talk to you? Or do you need to rest again?”

A second later, the door opened. She was not, in fact, wearing pajamas – she had changed back into the clothes she was wearing earlier. That seemed like a good sign. “Hey. Uh, my head feels okay this time. So yeah, we should talk about how it went.” She opened her door further and went to sit on her bed.

Wyatt closed the door most of the way behind him as he came in. “It seemed like it went well,” he said.

Lucy nodded. “Yeah. It did. Oh, sorry if I made you uncomfortable, at the end there. It just seemed like a good thing to try.”

Wyatt raised his eyebrows. “No, it was fine. I agree, it made sense.”

Lucy rubbed a hand over the side of her face, and he wondered if her head might be bothering her, after all. “Good. Uh, I feel like I'm getting the hang of how it works, more and more. So I think the next stage might be more of what we were doing, except with a few twists: one, you should try to resist. I mean, try as hard as you can. We've already done that a little bit, but not as much as Emma would try to stop me.”

“True,” said Wyatt. He didn't love the sound of that, though he understood her reasoning. “I can't say it sounds fun for either of us, but otherwise, all this practice isn't going to be worth much.”

“Exactly.” She gave a little shrug. “The other thing I think we should start working on is kind of more of what we did at the end: practicing with each of us in both forms.”

He took that in, and then cleared his throat. “Not that I don't see why, because I do, but that is going to make it more awkward to have an audience.”

Lucy blushed faintly. She pushed a lock of hair behind her ears. “I know. But I don't really see how else to do this.”

“Me, either,” Wyatt admitted. “I mean, I guess we can bring some clothes out with us. Like, robes or something quick.”

“I guess.”

After a short pause, Wyatt stood. “Anyway, I'm glad we're making progress.”

Lucy looked up. She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. “Me, too.”

God, he wished he could just not leave. Just stay the night with her, even without doing anything else. “Speaking of progress, though – are you up for more defense training tomorrow morning, if Emma doesn't jump?”

It seemed like she tensed up for a moment. But then she gave him another imitation of a smile. “Sure.”

Wyatt swallowed, then managed to at least pretend to smile back. “All right. See you in the morning, then.”

“'Night.”

But when Wyatt went to bed about an hour later, sleep didn't seem to be coming any time soon. That wasn't exactly new. Still, he did need to get at least a few hours here and there if he wanted to be able to function at all. It was just... he and Lucy were spending so much time together now. That should have been a good thing. Yet it was almost worse than when she had been avoiding him. His future self had said this would all work out – and he and Future Lucy had been so obviously close. Still. He wished that future didn't seem so far away.

He must have dropped off at some point, because he jerked awake again at the sound of a quiet but insistent knocking at his door. He sat up. It wasn't Lucy. It was... Jiya?

Getting up, his heart still pounding from the surprise, he opened the door. “What's going on? Is something wrong?”

Jiya looked worried, though not terrified. He was pretty sure. “Well, it will be. Can we do this inside? I don't want to wake anyone else up. Rufus is still asleep, and... You're the best person for this problem, anyway.”

Wyatt moved aside so she could come in, then closed the door. “What you mean, something will be wrong? Did you have a vision?”

Jiya nodded, crossing her arms. “It's about Lucy.”

His heart rate speeding back up, Wyatt took a deliberate breath. “What about her?” This had better not be another vision of death. He knew for sure he would not be able to handle that reality.

Jiya must have seen something alarming in his face, because she winced. “I didn't see her dying. It's not that,” she said quickly. “Look, uh, maybe I should tell you what happened two nights ago, first. After you two had your first session outside.”

“What?” Despite her reassurance, Wyatt was not at all comforted. He also had no idea what she was getting at.

She winced again. “Uh, that night, I had a vision like this one. Almost exactly like it. I couldn't get back to sleep. So I got up. I thought maybe I'd go get a midnight snack or something, try to figure out what to do. But when I got to the living room area, Lucy was sitting on the couch. Drinking. Alone, obviously, in the dark.”

Wyatt closed his eyes for a second. So she had been feeling just as miserable as he had – maybe more, if drinking was the only way she could face it. “What does this have to do with your vision?” He was unreasonably angry that Jiya had intruded on Lucy's privacy. But he tried to ignore that, since it was pointless.

“My vision was about that, about what she was doing, except when I talked to her that night she realized she should stop without me even having to try to really awkwardly bring that up. But I don't think that would happen again this time.”

“This time? What, you mean right now?” Wyatt did his best to swallow past the growing sick feeling in his stomach.

“Look, I don't want to – to give you the wrong impression. My vision didn't show her ending up in the hospital, or anything that bad,” Jiya said. She sighed. “But if Agent Christopher's the one to find her afterward, like I saw, she'll take her off the team. She'll ground her. Temporarily, I guess, but still. I don't think anyone wants that. Least of all Lucy.”

He had to remind himself to take another breath. “No.” Clearing his throat, because that had barely sounded like a word, he tried again. “No, she'd hate that.” The worst thing was, he knew exactly what that would feel like – because he had gone through something like it after Jessica died. (The real Jess, the one who had actually cared about him.)

“So.” Jiya met his eyes and bit her lip. “Can you go check on her? I mean, she's not in the living area. I looked there already. I was hoping maybe you'd be able to go outside her room and listen – or smell, or whatever – and then we can at least know if she's all right for tonight.”

“Yeah.” Wyatt nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Good. I'll, um...” She thought for a moment. “Just take your phone with you and shoot me a text. Either way. Okay?”

“Yeah.” Wyatt grabbed his phone and slipped it into the pocket of the sweatpants he was wearing. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

His heart in his throat, Wyatt walked as quickly and quietly as he could down the hall to Lucy's room. Her door was closed. Of course. That wasn't unusual, since it was after one thirty in the morning. He leaned closed to the door, holding his breath.

At first, he couldn't detect anything. But it was only a second later that he heard a quickly indrawn breath, and then the sound of glass clinking. Maybe this was it. Anyway, she wasn't asleep, so he wouldn't be waking her. He didn't let himself overthink it. He just knocked. “Lucy?”

There was a moment of silence. Then slow footsteps came closer, and the door opened. “What are you doing here, Wyatt?”

She had definitely been drinking. And crying, he saw with an extra jolt of pain. He also hadn't really thought of a way to explain this. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

Lucy blinked. “At this time of night?”

He nodded.

She sighed, and swayed, and if she hadn't been holding onto the door, Wyatt was pretty sure he would have had to catch her. “I don't know how to answer your question. Was it a question?”

Somehow, her words were only the slightest bit slurred. They were, however, a little too loud if they didn't want everyone else in the house to be awake. “Kind of. Do you mind if we go in? I'd rather not bother anyone else.”

“But you don't mind bothering me,” Lucy said, and he wasn't sure if that had been intended to be under her breath. Either way, she turned and walked slowly and carefully back into the room, leaving the door open.

Wyatt took that as an acceptance and followed her, closing the door. “So. Are you okay?”

Lucy sat down heavily on the bed. Her lamp was on, and there was an open bottle of vodka on the bedside table. “I didn't want to do this.” She gestured haphazardly toward the bottle, coming dangerously close to knocking it over. “I just wanted to sleep.”

Wyatt nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I get that.”

“Normally I'd just transform. It's... harder. No, I mean,” she frowned. “No, it's easier to make my brain shut up, in wolf form. You know?”

Wyatt nodded again. “Yeah.” He did know what she meant.

“But I can't do that anymore,” Lucy went on, sniffing loudly. “Because it doesn't help with the dreams.”

“What dreams?” Wyatt asked. He eased into the chair opposite her.

“You should know,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “You're in all of them.”

His mouth went dry, but he forced himself not to react too much other than that. “Oh.”

Lucy scoffed. She looked at the bottle, but didn't make any move toward it. “Doesn't matter what form I'm in. Can't get away. From you.”

His heart sank. “Do you want me to go?” He could go, he could ask Jiya to come in here instead...

“No!”

Wyatt looked at her in shock. That had been almost a shout.

“No,” she repeated, softer. She sniffed again. “It would be easier if I did. But I never have. I can't. I tried.”

Now he felt like his heart was being torn to shreds. “I'm sorry.”

She scoffed again. “I know.” She picked up the bottle and took a drink, shuddering as she swallowed. “I know it's crazy,” she said, setting it back down. “But I keep dreaming about us, and then I wake up and... you're not here, except you've made it pretty clear that you would be if I...” She trailed off, closing her eyes and wiping a hand under them. “But I can't. Except I keep having those dreams, anyway.”

God. Wyatt was pretty sure this was a form of torture, especially since the faint blush on her cheeks and the way she kept looking at him left no room for doubt as to what kind of dreams she was talking about. Maybe he should leave, after all. As long as he texted Jiya first...

“You don't have to listen to this, Wyatt,” Lucy said suddenly, sitting up. Her voice was starting to get more slurred. “'m just rambling.”

“I kind of invited myself in,” Wyatt pointed out. “And you don't want me to go.”

Lucy's eyes filled with tears again. “I thought about it. About me leaving, I mean. When I woke up tonight.”

Wyatt felt the air rush out of his lungs. “Lucy...”

“I could go in my wolf form, just... head for the woods.”

“No, Lucy,” said Wyatt, trying not to panic. She hadn't done it. Although it sounded like this wasn't the first time the idea had crossed her mind.

She rolled her eyes, wiping her cheeks again. “Obviously, I didn' go. I wouldn't. I can't just leave... everything.” Then she stared at him. After almost a minute of silence (during which Wyatt was starting to wonder what the hell she was seeing), she spoke again. “If Jessica hadn't been Rittenhouse... You said you were going to sign the divorce papers anyway. But if she hadn't been Rittenhouse, would you have stayed? Really? Knowing she was out there, living her life without you?”

Wyatt really wished they weren't having this conversation at this ungodly time of the night, after Lucy had drunk a significant amount of vodka. But he sure as hell wasn't going to get this wrong. He leaned forward. “Lucy, I – that's exactly what I was planning to do. I won't say I wouldn't have missed her at all, but I wasn't – I'm not – in love with her. Not anymore.”

“I know you're not in love with _her_. Not the Jessica who attacked you and tried to kidnap Jiya.”

Wyatt sighed. “You're right. Because that would be all kinds of crazy.” Apparently he still needed to make this even clearer, though. “But I haven't been in love with _any_ version of Jessica for a long time. I thought I was. But I was wrong.”

He almost jumped backward when Lucy leaned toward him and put a hand on his face. “I want to believe that,” she said, her voice trembling.

“Then believe it,” he said quietly, not daring to move.

She swallowed, still staring into his face like she was looking for something. If she was, though, she didn't seem to find it. “I – I can't.” She put her hand down and slumped back against the wall behind her bed.

Wyatt bowed his own head for a second, but then stared back at her. He had an idea. Blinking back his own tears, he told her, “Yes, you can. You can make me tell you the truth.”

She frowned in confusion, and then her eyes widened. She shook her head. “No. I can't do that to you. 'm not... You're not some kind of – of prisoner. I won't interrogate you.”

“It's not an interrogation if I ask you to do it,” Wyatt said. “I guarantee I have never once asked to be interrogated.”

She was searching his face again. Taking a deep breath, she leaned close again, though not as close as before. She didn't touch him, either. “You're sure?”

He nodded. “And I want you to be sure, too.”

Lucy sighed, and he could smell the vodka on her breath. She pushed her hair behind her ears, and then spoke. “Okay. Um...” Then she straightened and said, “Tell me the truth, Wyatt: do you still love Jessica?”

He felt the added strength there, that meant she was using her alpha ability. And he also wished she had phrased that question a little differently, but he could work with it. “I'll always love my wife who was taken away from me. But I'm not in love with her, no. I've moved on.”

Her expression barely changed, although he heard her breathing speed up. “Then tell me: am I going to lose you again?”

Wyatt's mouth fell open, and then he cleared his throat. “Lucy, I can't answer that, because I don't know the future. But I won't leave, if that's what you mean.” Everything in him wanted to hold her, almost more than he wanted to answer her question.

The pressure of her alpha ability disappeared. And then Lucy's face crumpled. She put her face in her hands and sobbed. Before he could even decide whether or not to go to her, though, she was looking up and talking again (though it was a little hard to understand through her continued crying). “Because I – I think I could keep going. Like this. With nothing more. It would be – hard. Really hard. But I could do it. But I can't – I _can't_ be with you again, if it's all going to... if it means I have to lose you again, too.”

“You won't,” Wyatt said, his own voice wavering. “I'm not going anywhere.” She was still crying hard, and he couldn't take it anymore, so he crossed to sit next to her.

He had barely even raised his arms before she was launching herself at him. It wasn't a full Lucy Preston hug, but he savored it anyway, and put his arms around her, too. Although he had to let go briefly to wipe the tears off his own face.

She didn't say anything else until the tears stopped. Still shuddering on and off, still with her face pressed against his chest, she said something that was too quiet and muffled for him to catch. After she said it, though, any tension she was still carrying seemed to melt away.

“What was that, Lucy?” he said quietly.

She turned to look up at him, apparently not willing to let go even to make the angle less awkward. “I said, I love you, Wyatt. I don' know... exactly when that started, but I never stopped.” Then, with a sweet smile, she turned her head back to where it had been and closed her eyes.

Wyatt let out a slow breath. As far as he could tell, Lucy was actually asleep. He hadn't dared to imagine, coming in here tonight, that he would end up with Lucy on the same bed. He definitely hadn't had any idea that he'd be there with her sprawled on top of him and her arms wrapped around him. And she'd said she loved him. His heart felt lighter than air, the polar opposite of how it had been crushed with guilt just a few minutes ago.

Then his phone vibrated in his pocket. Shit, he'd forgotten about texting Jiya. He hoped she wasn't freaking out too much. Slowly, carefully, he eased his right hand into his pocket. There was no way to do it without Lucy noticing. But all she did was make a faint sound of protest.

“Shh, it's okay,” he said gently. When he was sure she wasn't waking up, he moved the phone close enough to see and texted his reply to a worried Jiya. _She's fine. She's sleeping now._

A second later, the phone vibrated again and he got this response. _Thank God. You should get some sleep, too._

Wyatt smiled. He might be half-sitting, leaning against a wall, and with no blankets on him, but he was pretty sure he was going to sleep better than he had in weeks. _I will. You, too._

~~~~~~

Lucy woke up more slowly and pleasantly than she had in what seemed like forever. Wyatt's scent was all around, and if this was still a dream, it didn't seem to have that bitterness that had permeated her dreams of him ever since Jessica had shown up in the bunker. He was still here.

Then, as she started to turn over, and the light from her window hit her closed eyelids, it stopped feeling like a dream. She groaned. Her head ached. A lot.

“Good morning.”

That was Wyatt. He was actually here. In her room. She opened her eyes, as much as she could bear to. And then they opened completely, because he was lying next to her on the bed. “Wyatt?” He was really, really close to her. Close enough that she must have basically been on top of him a minute ago, before she had rolled over.

He smiled. “Hey. I was going to get you some coffee earlier, but you wouldn't let go of me.”

Come to think of it, her hands did feel kind of stiff. “Oh.” She blinked, and then ran a hand over her face. “I drank a lot last night. Didn't I?”

The smile faded a little. “I didn't see where you started, but yeah, I think so. Need some Tylenol?”

But they hadn't... She would have remembered that. And besides, they were both still clothed, and Wyatt had said... neither of them could have moved much last night if she had been holding on to him the whole time. She cleared her throat. “Um. Yes, please.” Her head did ache. She could deal with that before figuring out anything else.

He nodded. “Okay. I'll be right back with some, and I'll get you some water, too.”

“I –” Usually she had a glass by her bedside, but when she looked, there was just the vodka bottle. Not empty, which was probably good. “Okay.”

Wyatt got up and left the room. Lucy sat up slowly, grimacing when the change in position made her head feel worse. For just a moment, she thought she might throw up, but the nausea passed. And with that, she started to remember some of what she and Wyatt had talked about last night.

She had just caught up to telling him she had been dreaming about them, the two of them, when Wyatt knocked and then came back in. He was carrying a glass of water and two pills. She took them without speaking. “Thank you,” she said quietly. Then she finished the water and set the glass down. “Wyatt... did I use my alpha ability on you last night? Make you answer questions about... how you feel?”

He sat down in the chair. “I told you to. So you wouldn't still be worried about Jessica.”

“Oh. Right.” That did sound familiar. And it would explain why the idea of sleeping for hours literally clinging to Wyatt didn't make her feel panicky. A little embarrassed, maybe, but she wasn't worried she'd made some kind of terrible mistake.

Wyatt looked uneasy, though. “Lucy, I hope you don't think I... I mean, I know you'd been drinking, but it really seemed like you wanted me here.”

“I know,” Lucy said quickly. “Because I did. Some things might be a little, um, blurry, but I know I did. You didn't take advantage of anything.”

He relaxed. “Good.”

Lucy looked at her empty glass. Suddenly, she had a pretty clear memory of having told him she loved him last night, right before she had fallen asleep on top of him. At first, that memory brought back all the fear, the feeling that she was plummeting back into that river and she wasn't sure if anyone could rescue her this time. But unlike so many times before, the fear didn't stay. This was a good thing. She hated being afraid all the time, anyway.

“You okay?” Wyatt asked quietly.

“Yeah.” She smiled, and it felt good to mean it, even though it also felt tentative and fragile. 

This new happiness didn't fade right away, though, despite her faint anxiety that it would. It lasted through their session in the workout room, which Lucy insisted she'd be fine for after a cup of coffee and some more water. There was still awkwardness because of their physical closeness, but it was a different kind now. A better kind. It was an acknowledgement of... possibilities. They didn't talk about it right then, but it made a difference.

And once they were done, and showered and changed, and ready for the meeting that a recently-arrived Agent Christopher had called, that happiness was still there. It was honestly almost confusing because of how unused she was to the feeling. Granted, getting Rufus back had brought with it intense joy, but it had been at war with the grief for his loss that had taken a while to go away. Plus, well, all the other reasons Lucy had been feeling down.

But now. Even just the relief of not having to miss Wyatt was acute. She wasn't sure what their next stage would be, but at least it seemed like it would have to be good.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeesh, sorry it's been so long since I last posted. I promise I never forgot about this story. Hope you enjoy this update - which is at least pretty lengthy to make up for the wait!

~~~~~~

That night, Wyatt realized just as he was thinking about going to bed that it maybe wasn't as simple as that anymore. Or, well, maybe it should be. He glanced quickly at Lucy, who was reading at the table, where she had been for most of the evening (she had picked up her book partway through dinner and never really put it back down). Probably, he was overthinking this. He did believe last night had been a breakthrough. But just because the two of them were in a better place with each other now, didn't mean anything about their sleeping arrangements tonight.

With a mental shake of his head, he stood and headed toward his room. He'd never been a patient person, but especially after the progress they'd made, he still refused to push Lucy. If she wanted a repeat of last night, he had to let her bring it up. Although maybe he should check with Jiya to make sure there wasn't any danger of the drinking part repeating. He sure hoped not. Lucy had seemed so much happier today.

But Jiya and Rufus were both in the living room, still watching whatever sci-fi movie they'd started after dinner. If he went and asked to talk to her privately, there was no way that wouldn't seem weird. Lucy might even notice, which he would rather avoid.

Before he could do much more than berate himself for standing there being unable to decide what to do, he heard and smelled Lucy behind him. She was still holding her book. And she looked... nervous?

“Hey,” she said. “Are you, um...” Then she sighed. “Look, I'm going to get ready for bed, although I think I'll probably read for a little bit before actually trying to get any sleep. But, uh, if you wanted to – to join me, I'd like that.”

He swallowed. “Okay.”

She smiled faintly, and then cleared her throat as the smile faltered. “Uh, but just for resting. I mean, I'm not ready for... anything else. So if you'd rather not-”

“Lucy, that's fine,” he said quickly. She was still inviting him into her personal space. He had no complaints about that. “Let me just go get changed.” Then he smiled back at her. “See you in a few minutes.”

She nodded.

He tried not to hurry through his nighttime routine. He didn't want to get to her room before she was ready. Finally, when he couldn't think of anything else he needed to do, he left his room and went over to hers, knocking lightly on the door.

“Come in,” came her voice.

Lucy was sitting on her bed like she had been the night before, but that was really the only thing that was similar. She looked comfortable, not miserable, as she set the book down on her bedside table (which was also missing any sign of hard liquor). “Oh,” she said when he had shut the door behind him. “I thought maybe you'd bring a book. Since I said I'd be reading.”

“I didn't think of it,” Wyatt admitted. That would have made sense. “But that's okay. I can sit.”

“I should have actually suggested that, instead of just thinking it,” was Lucy's response. She was wearing the loose, soft clothes she preferred to sleep in, her hair was mussed, and for a second he could fantasize about having been the cause of that.

He managed to just shake his head, both clearing out that image and answering her at the same time. “No, it's fine.” Then he glanced toward the small bookshelf she'd squeezed into the room. “Unless you have one to recommend. I, uh, finished that Hamilton biography like a week ago.”

Lucy raised her eyebrows, and then she actually smirked. “I guess I should just be glad you kept reading it in spite of everything, and not make fun of you for being such a slow reader.”

His mouth dropped open, and then he pretended outrage. “Really? C'mon, life has been _kind of_ nuts since I started that thing.”

“Yeah, well, I still made time to read,” she pointed out, waving her book toward him. But before he could get out another retort, she set it down and stood up to go look at her shelf. “Did you honestly like it, though? I can take it, if you didn't. Biographies aren't everyone's cup of tea.”

“I did like it,” said Wyatt. “Hamilton's life was pretty amazing. And, uh, maybe now I can make Jiya happy by finally taking her up on the offer of listening to the soundtrack to that play everyone's so crazy about.”

Lucy grinned. “It's pretty good. And now that you've read the biography, I don't have to offer to fact-check it for you.”

Wyatt chuckled. He was self-aware enough to realize that it was probably a mark of how much of a goner he was that the idea of listening to Lucy critique the historical accuracy of a musical actually sounded fun. Maybe he'd keep that to himself for the time being, though. No need to go overboard right away.

“Anyway,” said Lucy, “if you liked that...” She considered the small collection (Wyatt was sure her complete collection was many orders of magnitude bigger than this bookshelf). “Ah, what about this?” She pulled out a thick paperback. “This should be interesting. I just wish I'd read it before we actually met Katherine Johnson, and history changed. It would have been fascinating to compare both versions.” She held out the book. "She's so much more well-known now, it's hard to even grasp that."

“ _Hidden Figures_ ,” Wyatt read the title, taking it. “Huh. I wish I'd actually had the chance to talk with her.”

“Well, you can ask Rufus or me what she's – she was like back then,” Lucy told him, before going back to her bed. “She's actually still alive, but I doubt any of us is going to run into her in the present.”

“Probably not,” Wyatt said. He sat down in the chair and opened the book. Like a lot of nonfiction, it wasn't the most gripping thing in the world, right away, but it was well-written and the personal connection (at least personal through his two best friends) added to the experience.

He didn't know exactly how much time had passed when he was suddenly hearing Lucy yawn. He looked up to see her stretch, too. “I'm gonna go ahead and call it a night, I think,” she said.

“Sounds good.” He was tired, too, although it was nice to be just plain physically ready to sleep, instead of the bone-deep exhaustion that he'd been facing more often than not, these days.

Lucy set her book down. Then she yawned again, and pushed some hair behind her ears. “Um, I was actually thinking I'd transform. If you don't mind?”

“Of course not. It's your room.”

“I know that,” she said, with a huff. “What I should have said is, I only want to transform if you want to join me.” She shrugged. “I, uh, thought it might be worthwhile for us both to do something in wolf form that's a little less intense than our practice sessions.”

“Like sleep? Yeah, hopefully that's less intense,” Wyatt said, although of course there was something else they could do – but no, he wasn't thinking about that, since she'd specifically said she wasn't ready for it.

“Exactly. So, would you be okay with that?”

“Sure.” In some ways, he would have preferred to stay in a form where they could talk easily, but since they were mostly planning to be asleep, anyway, he didn't mind. “I'll just...” He stood up and turned around, giving her privacy to make the change. “You can just... make a sound or something when you're done.”

After a minute or two, the rustling ended and he heard the bed creak. Then there was a quiet bark. He turned back around, smiling at the sight of Lucy's wolf form already under the covers. When she saw that he was watching, she jerked her head toward him and then closed her eyes.

That wasn't too hard to decipher. He took off his shirt and Morfex patch, then got the rest of the way undressed. Once he'd folded his clothes, he transformed and jumped up next to her. (This bed was a heck of a lot sturdier than the cots back at the bunker, which was why this was possible.) Lucy opened her eyes and leaned over to touch her face to his, and lick his nose. Then they both settled down.

A part of Wyatt's heart felt like it was finally, completely falling back into place as she laid her head on his shoulder. He had a feeling this would easily beat his previous best night of sleep in a while (though the point of commonality between the two nights was obvious). And from the sigh Lucy let out when she leaned on him, he guessed she might be able to truly relax, too, without needing any alcohol to pull her under.

~~~~~~

Wyatt would have liked to enjoy another sweet, slow morning with Lucy – and it probably would have been even better than yesterday's, since neither of them would have been dealing with a hangover. But instead, they'd only had the time it took to transform, put their pajamas back on, and go out to the kitchen for some coffee when Rufus came in, already dressed. Wyatt raised his eyebrows. It wasn't even late – it was barely past seven o'clock.

“Hey, Lucy,” he said. “Wyatt. Glad you two are up. You should probably come see what Jiya found.”

Lucy swallowed the coffee she was drinking. “Okay. Should we be worried?”

Rufus made a face. “Kinda, yeah. But it's something we might be able to get ahead of Rittenhouse on, so there's that.”

“Uh huh,” was Lucy's not very enthusiastic response. But she and Wyatt followed their friend back to the barn, where Jiya was sitting in front of one of the computers. “What's going on?” she asked the younger woman.

Jiya's face was worried as she looked up. “Hi. Uh, so, I've had a program searching for any signs of that school you mentioned, when you came back from... being kidnapped. Any signs of anything that looked like it could be a place where kids were being turned.”

Lucy's eyes widened. “Oh. And you found something?”

“I think so.” She typed on the keyboard for a moment, and then opened up what looked like a Wikipedia article. “Bear with me, I know this isn't exactly the most legit source. But I've followed up on the cross-references, and it looks real.”

“Because we know better than to use Wikipedia as proof when talking to a university professor,” Rufus added, with a half-smile at Lucy.

She rolled her eyes at him. “What are we looking at?”

“This article mentions a school in northern England, in 1981. It's a private academy, a secondary school that looks like was mostly just for kids whose parents really wanted them to get rich. Anyway, there are two reasons my search picked up on it: number one, after the school opened the farmers in all the surrounding villages started reporting their livestock going missing; and number two, the school was supported by William Grady, who, it turns out, was the son of Peter. And you said your mom told you he was a Rittenhouse operative.”

Lucy nodded. “Well, the livestock thing could just be a coincidence.”

“I know,” Jiya said quickly. “And obviously I'm not trying to say that Lycanth usually attack or steal people's animals. I know that.”

Lucy's expression was flat, as was her voice. “Yeah. On the other hand, if these people did just create a bunch of new, young Lycanth, that would be something they could do, to keep them in line, I guess. They could promise them a hunt. Easy prey.”

Wyatt frowned. He had never technically gone hunting in his wolf form, but he did have a few clear memories of how he had felt right after being turned. If someone had offered him the chance to hunt down a domesticated, penned creature, he wouldn't have taken much convincing.

“Yeah, that's kind of what I was thinking.” Jiya still looked apologetic. “Anyway, that's what I've been able to find other sources to support. I know it's not a lot to go on, but it could be a big deal, if it is what your mom and Emma and that other lady were talking about doing.”

“It could be.”

Rufus exchanged a glance with Jiya. “So, we were thinking we should tell Agent Christopher about it.”

“I agree. We should.”

Wyatt was now a little concerned at Lucy's monosyllabic answers. Her face was still expressionless. “It would be nice not to even have to worry about Emma being there while we're trying to fix this,” he pointed out.

“True. As long as she doesn't jump somewhere else while we're gone,” said Lucy.

“We'd know as soon as we got back to the Lifeboat, at least,” Rufus said.

Lucy nodded. “Right. Well, yeah.” She took a deep breath, and smiled. “Thanks for – for finding this, Jiya.”

“Of course,” Jiya said. “I'll call Agent Christopher, see what she says.”

Lucy agreed, and then drank the last of her coffee. “I guess we should go get ready, then, in case we're about to jump back to the 80s.”

Back in the hallway that led to their bedrooms, Wyatt put a hand on her arm. “Are you all right? I know thinking about going back to the UK, near the time when you were kidnapped, can't be fun.”

She turned to look at him. “I'll be okay.” She smiled, but just like it had been a minute ago, it seemed forced.

“Really?”

Then she sighed. “I'm not worried about the time or the place. Not more than any other trip.” She twisted her hands together for a second. “Even before I knew about Rittenhouse, I'd met some other Lycanth who thought everyone should be turned. They made my skin crawl. Still do.”

“Yeah.” He didn't disagree.

“And now we're – we're going to have to pretend to _be_ those people. It's almost like Nazi Germany all over again. And Rufus – he's going to have to...” She shook her head. “I don't even know. And if Flynn comes, too, he'll have basically the same issue. I don't want to take either of them into that situation.” Then she paused. “Although I guess it will be Jiya, not Flynn, since Flynn was alive in 1981.”

Of course she wasn't worried about herself, when she could be worried for her friends. “Well, you're right. We're going to have to figure out what to do.” Then he took a step closer. “But we can do that. We always figure it out.”

She ran a hand through her hair. “I guess.”

Then, because he wanted to say this before they separated to finish getting ready, Wyatt said. “Hey, uh, I wanted to thank you.”

Looking puzzled, she asked, “For what?”

“For...” He laughed a little. “I was going to say, for inviting me over last night, as if we're not all in the same house. But anyway, thanks for that.”

Her expression softened. “You don't have to thank me.” She took his hand long enough to squeeze it and let go. “It felt like we both needed it.”

He knew he had, but it still amazed him to hear her say the same. “Yeah.”

“And, um, you can assume you're 'invited' anytime.” This time, she must have caught his disbelief. “I mean it. As long as you don't mind that I still need to take it slow.”

“I don't mind.” He knew how much she had to feel like she was risking, already. And he would never take that for granted again.

 

~~~~~~

The especially tricky part of this mission, Lucy thought as they made their way to the boarding school, was that they didn't want the police to be the solution to the illegal turning of these kids. Otherwise, she was pretty confident that the four of them could have come up with a relatively easy way to prove it was happening. But she knew that this was not a time when the police could be expected to treat even the kids, who were the victims, fairly. Everyone involved would be publicly outed and shamed. Most likely their whole families would be ostracized.

“And that would mean all the staff at this school would just feel even more vindicated about their cause,” she explained to the others as they went.

“Of course they would,” Rufus muttered.

With that in mind, as well as the strong desire to protect Rufus and Jiya from the worst of the bigotry that the faculty would no doubt want to throw at them, the team came up with a different plan. Along with the large dose of sheer nerve that it took for all of them to walk in there and pretend they belonged, this plan also involved Lucy going in as a version of herself – one loyal to Rittenhouse. She hated that, of course, but it made sense. Wyatt’s role was her bodyguard. And Rufus was the technology genius who was coming to give the school's computers (hopeless by modern standards) a state-of-the-art upgrade. Jiya would be Rufus' assistant.

And at first, that cover story worked like a charm. The staff at the school was clearly surprised to have them show up. But the headmaster, it turned out, was related to Ms. Emerson, the woman her mother had forced her to meet with about this school in the first place. When they were introduced to Arthur Emerson, Lucy remembered the last name and explained that she'd met a Ms. Emerson before.

“Really? Well, that must have been my sister Laurel,” said the man. “What a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Preston. Though we weren't expecting a visit, I must admit.”

“I see that,” Lucy said. “I apologize, though I also have to say, I did send a message, and I was under the impression that it had been received. But I'm sure there was just some mistake. Nothing to worry about, as long as we're not inconveniencing you now?”

“Oh no, certainly not,” Emerson said quickly. “Classes are almost over for the day, and then your team shouldn't have any interruptions. How long would this, ah, update take?” This was the first time he had looked toward Rufus or Jiya for more than a second, but it still was hard to tell whether he was actually asking them directly.

Lucy had no idea what would be a logical amount of time, though, so she was relieved when Rufus cleared his throat and answered, “Um, it should be the rest of the day, at least. Sir.”

Emerson raised his eyebrows. “I see.”

“We wouldn't trespass on your hospitality if it ends up taking longer,” Lucy put in, with a smile. “We'll find accommodation in the village.”

Emerson politely argued with her about that for a minute, but seemed relieved to give in. “And may I assume that while your team is working, you'll want to speak to the students, Ms. Preston?”

“Yes, thank you,” Lucy agreed. She was already mentally running through what kind of lecture she could give that wouldn't sound out of place to any staff member who listened, but wouldn't be as poisonous as what they would have been hearing.

“Before that,” Wyatt said, speaking up for the first time, “is there any chance Ms. Preston and I could get a tour of the building? I've never had the chance to visit a school like this, and I imagine Ms. Preston would be interested, too.”

Lucy had almost forgotten that their chances of getting back in here after hours relied on Wyatt having been able to scout out the place. “I would be, yes.”

“Of course,” Emerson said.

They pretended to be impressed by the facility and its grounds. Then Lucy came up with an impromptu speech that she hoped toed the line between encouraging the students about the importance of education, while hinting that questioning authority was sometimes the right course of action. It wasn’t her best work, she knew, but it wasn’t incoherent, at least.

She and Wyatt left it up to Rufus and Jiya to make sure no one knew what they were actually doing with the computers – and that they were looking for the source of the Lycanth virus that the school was using to turn their students. For their part, they made a big show of leaving for the evening.

Then, once most of the staff had left (or gone to bed, for those who lived on campus with the students), Wyatt escorted her discreetly back onto the grounds. Anything they did to prevent more non-consensual turning wasn’t good enough, if the kids who were already turned were left without any support. She didn’t like to think about what a pack of just-turned kids would do in that kind of situation.

Once they had snuck into the dorms, it didn’t take long for most of the children to wake up. That was fine. In fact, they needed to talk to all of them. So their curiosity about why two adults were sneaking in worked in their favor here. It didn’t mean the kids necessarily would listen to what Lucy wanted to say, though.

“And why should we pay any attention to you?” the boy who was clearly the ringleader of the group said. “You're Lycanth, too. And you're American. Why would we trust you?”

Lucy exchanged a quick glance with Wyatt, who she thought was probably annoyed, though trying to hide it. She sighed. “I wish we had time for me to explain all the ways I disagree with what the staff here did to you, and then to help you adjust. But we don't. So I'll just say, this school isn't going to continue like it is anymore. And you all are going to have to be your own best support system when you go back home.”

The kid – was his name Ryan? She thought it was – rolled his eyes. “Look, _Miss_ , we may not have wanted to be made into Lycanth, but now we are. And maybe we decided that we're going to do what we want, instead of listening to any adults tell us what to do.” He crossed his arms, and a few of the other kids made sounds of agreement.

“Oh, give me a break,” said Lucy, barely restraining her own eyeroll. “You think your little pack impresses me? Sit down!” When she used her alpha ability on him, she had the immense satisfaction of seeing his eyes get huge as he immediately sat down on his bed. The other kids murmured, giving her alarmed looks. She relented the pressure. “I won't be following any of you home or making sure you behave. But I am going to tell you that if you decide you're above all the rules, that you want to do whatever you want, you're going to get a whole lot more people than just yourselves in trouble. Maybe you haven't noticed, but cops don't like Lycanth. Neither do most judges or other people you'd come across if you got arrested.”

Then she leaned closer to Ryan, staring directly into his eyes. “And I'm also not the only alpha around here. I'm trying to help you all out, but someone else might decide you need a firmer hand, and they might be less nice than me. Got it?”

He gulped audibly.

“Hey. She asked you a question, kid,” Wyatt added then, his voice barely above a growl. “I'm not hearing any answer.”

“Yes, I understand, Miss,” the boy said quickly, and without the sarcasm he'd used with that term of address before.

Lucy still hadn't stopped staring into his face. “Good. Then be smart.” She straightened up, and addressed all of them. “That goes for all of you. I'm not saying you should go back to living like non-Lycanth. But be smart about how you choose to live this new life. Think it through. Or the chances are, you'll end up making things worse for you and every other Lycanth in the area.”

It wasn't until later, having reunited with Rufus and Jiya after the other two had sabotaged the school's computer system and carefully destroyed the “vaccines” that had been used to turn the kids, that Wyatt took the time to bring up that confrontation with the students. “I gotta say, Lucy,” he told her, as the four of them started back in the direction of the Lifeboat, “watching you back there with those kids, I can't decide whether I wish my teachers had been more like you, or whether I'm really, really glad they weren't.”

Raising her eyebrows, she glanced at him. “Okay. Well, I can't decide if that's a compliment or a critique...”

“A compliment,” he insisted. “I'm just... I bet you never let any of your students get away with any half-assed excuses or talking back.”

Now she could feel herself blush, although she hoped it wasn't much. “Student evaluations usually call – called me strict, it's true.”

“No surprise there,” Jiya put in. “But all the best teachers are.”

“I guess you're right.” Wyatt sounded thoughtful. Then she looked over just in time to see him grin. “But if they called you that before you could alpha them into submission, I can't imagine what they'd think now.”

She scoffed. “Not that I'd be using that ability on my own students.”

“Eh,” said Rufus, “it might be a good tool to have, as a last resort if some punk kid's causing trouble during a lecture.”

What Lucy might or might not have said in response was forgotten as Wyatt suddenly stopped. If he'd been in wolf form, Lucy could tell his ears would have pricked up. “Don't look now, but I think we're being followed,” he said, his voice low. He started walking again, but that alertness didn't lessen.

“By who?” Rufus said, also speaking quietly.

Taking the few steps necessary to catch up with Wyatt, Lucy focused her own ears and sense of smell. It took a minute, but then she caught what he must have. “Hmm, I don't think we're in danger. I think it's a kid.” She kept her voice quiet, too.

“A kid? Like from the school?” Jiya wanted to know, matching everyone else's tone.

“I think so,” Lucy said. “Don't you, Wyatt?”

Wyatt kept walking, as they all did, but she could tell he was concentrating on what he could detect from here. “You're probably right. I don't recognize any specific kid we talked to, but the scent is familiar.”

“Wait, so that means... is this kid also Lycanth?” Rufus asked.

“Yes,” Lucy said, in chorus with Wyatt. She gave him a look.

Rufus just glanced between them and then turned his head slightly before stopping himself. “Then is there any point in pretending we haven't noticed?”

“No,” a new voice called from behind them.

Lucy turned in time to see the girl step out from the trees several yards to their rear. She looked nervous. “Sorry. I knew you'd notice. But I just – I can't stay there.”

“So you're following us, instead?” Wyatt asked.

The girl came closer. “Well, yeah.”

“Why?” Rufus asked bluntly.

She looked annoyed, but then sighed. “Because I want you lot to get me out of here!”

Lucy winced. This was not a situation she'd imagined – and she didn't think either of her friends had, either. “What's your name?”

“Olive,” the girl said.

“Okay, Olive,” said Lucy. “I know your life must feel pretty crazy right now. Believe me. But we can't take you with us.”

Olive frowned. “That's it? You won't even try?”

“We can't smuggle a kid back to the US with us,” Wyatt said, though his voice wasn't unkind. “That would be called kidnapping, or even trafficking.” And of course he wasn't mentioning the part where they would be actually traveling to the future, as well.

Her frown deepened. “Well, that's not fair. You can't just come to our school and turn it all upside-down, and then swan off!”

“What about your family?” Jiya interrupted.

“They don't care about me,” Olive snapped. Then she took one more step forward and put her hand on Wyatt's arm. “They never did before and they definitely won't if they find out I'm Lycanth. Please, you've got to help me!”

Lucy watched Wyatt ease his arm away from the girl and fought back her own instinctive anger. She took a breath. “Your whole family is like that?”

Almost pouting (which bothered Lucy even more), Olive crossed her arms. “Well... I guess I have a cousin who's all right.”

“You should call her, then,” Wyatt said.

“Yeah, is there a pay phone you can get to, if you don't want to go back to the school?” Rufus asked.

Olive barely looked at him. Her eyes were back on Wyatt, and she bit her lip. “It's sort of in a bad part of town, though, isn't it?”

Lucy was finding it harder and harder not to be furious, which was ridiculous. She knew Wyatt wasn't going to be manipulated by a teenage girl, but Olive's flirting was getting over the top. As far as she knew, the village this school was closest to was too small to have a 'bad part of town', anyway. “Well,” she said, trying to make her voice sound normal, “Wyatt and I can go with you there, and then you can call a cab.”

Wyatt gave her a look that made it pretty clear he was aware that her offering to join this group wasn't out of sheer altruism. But he nodded. “What do you think?”

Shooting Lucy a reluctant glance, Olive nodded. “All right.”

“Jiya and I can go, uh, get everything ready for our trip back,” Rufus put in, eyes a little wide.

“Definitely,” Jiya agreed, although she looked more amused than alarmed. “You know where to find us.”

“Uh huh.” Lucy pasted on a smile. “Are we ready? Olive, you'll have to lead the way.”

“Okay,” said the girl.

They set off, with Wyatt saying they should try not to attract a lot of attention, if possible. Lucy reminded herself that was another good reason not to do something stupid like attack this girl, who had asked for their help. Even if she was still making eyes at Wyatt.

“Next turn is up here,” Olive said as they went on. Then she cleared her throat. “So, have you been a Lycanth your whole life, Wyatt?”

“No, I was turned,” Wyatt told her. “Not against my will, though.”

“Oh. You seem so natural about it.”

Lucy gritted her teeth. Of course she actually agreed that Wyatt had transitioned to his new status very well, but the compliment was transparent and the girl actually batted her eyes when she gave it.

Wyatt, she thought, was carefully not looking at her. But he just nodded, and then asked, “Left or right?” as they reached the place Olive had said they should turn.

That seemed to hold her off for a few minutes. They kept going in silence, and then Olive spoke up again. “So, what does your wolf form look like?” she asked. The question was (no surprise) directed at Wyatt.

“Uh, I don't actually know. I've never looked in a mirror in wolf form,” Wyatt said.

“Right, of course,” said Olive, with a laugh that set Lucy's teeth even more on edge. “But you must have seen him.” This time she was looking at Lucy.

Again, Lucy was aware that the anger she felt was irrational and pointless. That was not, however, enough to get rid of it. “Oh look,” she finally said, just before not answering would have gotten really awkward, “is that the phone booth up there?” She pointed.

“Oh. Yeah,” Olive said. “Would you mind staying until the cab comes?”

Internally, Lucy rebelled, but her mind informed her that if they had come along all this way to keep this girl safe, it didn't make any sense to leave yet. “Of course,” she said.

Wyatt glanced at her, eyebrows raised, but nodded.

“Thanks,” Olive said, once again clearly directing it at Wyatt.

“We're happy to help,” said Wyatt, though his voice didn't sound totally normal, either. She had to keep in mind that this was awkward and annoying for him, too.

Once Olive had made her phone call, she came back out and stood near them. “Actually, my cousin said she would come and get me. Which is brilliant, because I didn't fancy riding in a cab all the way to her house in London.”

“Great,” said Lucy. And she did mean it, mostly. That seemed like a much better chance for the girl to actually stay safe. Which was why they had taken this excursion in the first place.

“Yeah. But it will take a while for her to get here,” Olive said. She bit her lip again, but this time it looked like genuine uncertainty. “I told her she could meet me in the pub across the street.” She nodded in the direction of the place. “'Cause you shouldn't have to babysit me for an hour, or however long it turns out to be.”

Lucy blinked. “Oh.” Not meeting Wyatt's eyes, she steeled herself and asked, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it's fine.” The girl looked between them, lingering on Wyatt for a moment before she went on, “I've got a few quid. Enough to buy something, so they can't kick me out.”

“Well, all right,” said Lucy. “I'm glad your cousin is on the way.” Wyatt agreed.

Olive nodded.

“Do you think you'll tell her?” Wyatt said. “About what happened to you?”

Swallowing, Olive shrugged. “I think I might. We'll see.” Then she smiled, and took a step closer to them. “Thank you.” She gave them each a hug – and if she lingered a little bit longer hugging Wyatt than Lucy, Lucy didn't mind. Much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the UK English sounds all right for the time period, class, etc. Constructive criticism is welcome.


End file.
